


I'm Coming Home

by AliasFics374



Series: Remembering Home [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Flashbacks, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Memories, Natasha loves James, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Red Room (Marvel), james is falling in love with natasha, james remembers, mentions of abus/torture/what did you think the Red Room would be like?, read first 2 parts in this series first (if you wish), winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27812707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliasFics374/pseuds/AliasFics374
Summary: Natasha wants nothing more than for James to remember her, yet she knows that she'll never push him or force him into anything. She begins to lose hope as months pass and there seems to be no sign of recognition coming from James. Yet after a mission goes wrong, things change. Now it's a matter of time. Will James be able to tell Natasha before it's too late?(Takes place after the part two in the Remembering Home series. There's no Age of Ultron, no Infinity War, no Endgame. Brutasha never happened, though there is a hint at a Steve and Sharon relationship.)
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Series: Remembering Home [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009140
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

Steve pulled Natasha into a room once James was situated. The solider was taking a shower in Steve’s room before they could talk to Tony about living arrangements. 

“Why didn’t you tell him, that you knew him?” Steve asked.

“I won’t push him to remember something, Steve,” she responded, shaking her head.

“But last time, when you spoke to him that way it…”

“That doesn’t work every time. And I talked to stop him from shooting me. It was a life-or-death situation. Now, he can remember on his own, without being forced.”

“And if he doesn’t remember?”

“I’ll have to live with that,” Natasha stated calmly, yet her heart was already hurting with the idea that he wouldn’t remember her ever again.

“No, Nat. You could at least tell him…”

“No, I won’t push him. He doesn’t deserve that…” she took a breath then continued, admitting the one thought that had been circulating through her mind, “and maybe it’s better if he doesn’t remember.”

“What? Why?” Steve looked at her puzzled.

“The memories of all the things that took place when he knew me, all of it, it was… it was hell, Steve,” she sighed, her eyes fell to the ground so she wouldn’t have to watch Steve’s reaction. “If he doesn’t have to relive that, then maybe…”

“Why are you doing this to yourself, Nat?” he interrupted. But the question was sincere and his expression was filled with worry. He honestly looked heartbroken. Natasha assumed she was letting too many emotions show if he was looking at her like that. Her instinct was to fix it, restore her emotionless mask, but maybe it was okay to let somebody see her real self. No. No, not yet. “I can tell, just from how you looked at him on the plane ride back, you love him. You miss him. You want nothing more than for him to remember you. Why are you letting him go?”

“It’s because I love him. I’ll bear this pain so he doesn’t have to,” she responded. Then left the room, leaving a stunned Steve Rogers.

***

About six hours later, that same day, Natasha felt a tug at her arm. She flinched from the unexpected contact, a habit she had yet to overcome, then looked up to find Steve looking down at her. 

He had found her sitting on the couch in the living room inside the Avengers Tower, looking aimlessly at the busy New York Streets below. She liked the sight of the city at night. The busyness and that feeling of constant movement made her feel small, like an insignificant part of the world, and that somehow calmed her. Not to mention the lights, so many lights. They almost danced around on the city streets. Headlights, billboard lights, street lamps. It was one of her favorite views.

“You were quiet all day today,” Steve stated, then sat next to her on the couch. “Not like I’d blame you, after our conversation.”  
Natasha slightly nodded. 

“He’s asleep?” she asked.

“Yeah, I assumed he hasn’t gotten a good night's rest in months,” he remarked. James was sleeping in one of the guest rooms in the compound. After hours of banter between Tony and Steve, Tony gave in and gave James a room to sleep in. Surprisingly, James got along with Tony decently well, yet Natasha could most definitely tell that Tony was cautious of the solider.

“He might not stay asleep long. He’s always gotten nightmares, now with all these memories coming back…” she let her voice fade, feeling that tension return to the room along with those unspoken words. His memories were coming back, but not the ones with her in them.

“You can’t avoid him forever, Nat,” Steve sighed after a moment.

“I’m not…” she turned to face him, defensively.

“Yes, you are. Don’t even try lying to me on this one, Natasha,” he interrupted.

Nat let out a breath then nodded slowly. Steve was right. Even if it was the first day James was back in New York, she had avoided him. After so long of trying to find him, this was how she was acting? It seemed so immature.

“And you know the most about him. About this new Bucky. To be honest… he’s different and I,” Steve ran his hands through his hair. A motion he did when he was nervous or anxious. “I don’t know what to do. He remembers but…”

“He’s not the same person you knew before,” she finished his sentence.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, “and the fact is that if anybody could help disarm his triggers and help him recover from the horrible memories, it would be you.”

Natasha just sat there, her thoughts and feelings at war in her head. Should she do this or should she not? Should she run or should she stay? 

“I know you don’t want to push him, but avoiding him and letting him remember on his own, isn’t the same thing. I don’t want to offend you in any way Nat but, it’s not right for James, that you are hiding from him. And it’s not right for you either. I know you have your fears and doubts but…”  
“But what Rogers?” she asked. She needed to hear his reasoning. She needed a reason for her to face him, even if James didn’t remember her. She needed a level-headed voice in her mind that could help wash away those doubts.

“But Bucky, or, um, James, he recognized you. Not as Natasha or Natalia, but he asked about you. Said there was something familiar, yet he couldn’t pinpoint what.”

There was another breath of silence before a weak smile crept onto Natasha’s lips. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself, this would still be a long journey for him to remember her, yet it was a start.

“Don’t run from him Nat. You know he wouldn’t want that either.”

Steve stood and left the room. Leaving Natasha alone with her thoughts, all over again. She kept her eyes trained on the New York lights. Spending time with James would be hard. Hard for her to resist talking to him like she used to, to not recall memories they shared and just the struggle of keeping her hands off him. After all the years she had longed for his touch? After losing him and now having him back? It would be no easy feat. But if she could help him, in the long run, or even develop a new kinship with this man stuck between old and new memories, then it would be all worth it. She knew that in her heart.


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter says it all. Natasha comforts James with his nightmares, just like she used to. Steve, Sam and Tony (especially) seem to catch on.

(about nine months after the graduation ceremony)

They spent the night in a run-down motel on the side of the road, somewhere in the countryside of western Russia. Natalia didn’t really know where. They were returning from a mission in Kazan, leaving two Russian moles dead. She of course hadn’t known what they had done, something along the lines of selling Russian intelligence to foreign countries? Natalia was rarely ever informed on the reason behind the mission, she just got the order to kill. 

She could barely sleep though, the motel wasn’t a secure location, and she could envision anyone barging in through that flimsy door at any moment. Her gun was already loaded, sitting on the small night table next to the only queen bed in the room. James was asleep to her right, claiming the side of the bed closest to the door with no option for her to argue. How could she even argue with him?

At around 1 in the morning was when things went downhill. James started stirring. Quietly and only slightly at first. He would sigh, whimper a little, but it was nothing that Natalia hadn’t experienced herself. Nightmares had became a common thing for her, but she fought them and never let the effects show on her face.

But James’ nightmares were different. They slowly built up until he was lashing out, punching and yelling in his sleep. Natalia didn’t want to draw any attention to their room, somebody might hear the noise, not to mention the fact that she wanted to get him out of that painful state quickly.

Without giving it a second thought, she shook him awake. A bit roughly after he didn’t wake when she first touched him gently. His eyes opened, yet Natalia could tell he wasn’t actually awake. His eyes gave no sign of recognition towards her and were filled with fear, anger and rage.

That’s when he hit her. James had never hit her (unless during sparring), especially not intentionally. His refusal to giving harsh and physical punishment was the first sign she had received that he was different from any other trainer she had been trained under. 

His attack started as a slap from his metal arm that would surely leave a mark, and then followed by punches to her gut. He soon enough pinned her to the bed, using his metal arm, which was followed by a punch was thrown to her cheek, arm, and chest, in which he used his flesh hand.

Alarmed, she kicked her way out of his grasp and stood on the floor, her hands ready. “It’s just sparring. It’s just sparring,” she repeated in her head, yet why did this feel so much more aggressive, like she was actually fighting him, for real? The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. But she didn’t want to return with more injuries that Madame B would question. So, she fought.

But James wasn’t James. He was the brainwashed Winter Solider at that moment. He landed kicks to her sides, charged at her with full force, held her against a wall and punched her like a sack of potatoes. Natalia wasn’t winning this fight, and now she was fearing her life.

As he was about to throw another punch to her head, one that would knock her out for sure, he stopped. A flash of recognition passed through his eyes and suddenly that spell he was in subsided. He looked in horror at Natalia who now fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

“No… no…” he breathed. He didn’t do… he did? What did he do?! The thoughts in his head were fuzzy, yet the message was clear. He had done this to his Natalia. “No… no…”  
He bent down to her level and brushed her hair out of her face with the tips of his metal fingers. Natalia couldn’t help herself, she flinched, and it caused a wave of guilt to flash across James’ face.

“I’m so, so sorry, Natalia,” he whispered. A silent tear made a wet trail down his cheek. He didn’t make an effort to wipe it off. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m okay,” she stated. But James shook his head.

“Let me see,” he said instead. It was what he always said when he would check her wounds, and she would often return the statement when she would help clean his (though she tended to gain more than he did).

Natalia shook her head. She didn’t want him to torture himself like that. Once he'd see what he'd done, she knew he wouldn’t forgive himself.

“Let me see, Natalia,” he said again, his voice still somehow had that softness to it. 

Natalia eventually let up and faced him. He started with her face, the pads of his fingers lightly touching each bruise. He would suck in a breath when he saw the bad ones, the ones that were already turning a midnight shade of purple. Then he moved to her arms, checking each bone to make sure he didn’t break anything. Luckily, nothing but a few scrapes and bruises. Next was her torso. He lifted the hem of her nightshirt to reveal a whole new cluster of bruises and cuts. Still mostly bruises, but when he felt her ribcage, he found that a rib was fractured. He shook his head at that. It would be painful, and take a while to recover, Madame B wouldn’t like it. Lastly, he ran his hand along her legs nothing but a few swelling spots but nothing major.

“I did this to you,” he sighed, locking eye contact with her. His eyes full of remorse and regret. “I hurt you.”

“I know that wasn’t you, James,” Natalia shook her head.

“But it still hurt the same,” he stated, eyeing the gash at her hairline, still dripping a bit of blood. 

Natalia hated it when he blamed himself for something he had no control over. If anything, it was her fault that she had woken him up like that. Yet she didn’t mention it. He would still blame himself anyways.

“You will never hurt me,” she said and leaned into him. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, lightly, fearing that he would accidentally press too hard on her fractured rib. She melted into his touch, laying her head on his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. “James, you will never hurt me.”  
James only kissed the top of her head in response. 

o0o

(present day about a week after bringing James to NY)

It started with his nightmares. Surprisingly, on his first few nights, he slept soundly. Maybe from over-exhaustion? Usually, it was hard for even Natasha to rest peacefully in an unfamiliar location filled with new people milling around in the same building, but he had done it- possibly due to Steve being right next door? Natasha didn’t really know.

Even with Steve’s encouragement, and her own “set-in-stone” decision she made to not avoid him purposefully, she found that they had kept their distance from one another. There was small talk made over breakfast, and sometimes they would both be in the training room at the same time (her running with resistance bands and him boxing a punching bag), but they never went out of their way to seek each other out.

James was quiet. He didn’t seem to hate the other Avengers in the building, but when too many people were in a room or a conversation became too overwhelming, he would retreat to his designated bedroom and stay there for the majority of the day.

Overall, they didn’t purposefully spend more time together than needed. Yet that all changed one night.

Natasha was reading a book. One that Steve recommended from his time period. She thought it was decent, yet she found it too informational. Usually she would choose her books as an outlet from the world, finding solace in the characters’ stories and struggles on facing their own plot. And when she read, all her worries seemed to fade. But this book? She quite honestly thought it was a bit bland.

Then, all of a sudden, she heard a faint thud that brought her attention off of the book and onto the doorway. She was seated in the living room again, and everyone else was asleep, given it was three in the morning. 

There was another thud, louder this time, followed by a grunt. Half curious and half worried, Natasha got up from the couch and walked through the hallway to where the noise had come from.

Steve liked to rearrange his room often. He moved the furniture around to create a whole new look to his living space about once a month, but he was considerate enough not to do this while everyone was asleep.

She walked to where the noise had come from, either Steve’s room or… James’. There it was again, another thud and a groan. And it definitely came from James’ room. She opened the door slowly, trying her best not to startle him in any way.

As she stood in the doorway, the dim light flooding in from the hallway revealed James tossing and turning in the sheets. His face had beads of sweat dripping from his temple and overall, he looked frazzled. Probably a nightmare.

“Net, ya ne budu etogo delat’,” he spoke. His voice was raspy and hitched. 

He was speaking in Russian, not a good sign. His nightmare could easily turn ugly extremely fast. She felt hesitant to wake him up, to comfort him, yet her heart wouldn’t just let him suffer alone.

Like she had done countless times before, when he would get nightmares on missions or when she slept in his bed, she pressed her palm to his forehead and rubbed her other fingertips up and down his flesh bicep. It was a calming technique she had first used years ago, during the second time he had lashed out in his sleep (the first didn’t turn out so well). Natasha didn’t know how she had learned it, but the movement always calmed him down and woke him up peacefully.

And like those countless times before, he woke up with a start. His eyelids fluttered and his breathing quickened. Once his eyes met hers he backed away from her touch, almost scared of her at first, then calmed down.

Natasha held her hands in her lap now, reminding herself that he didn’t know her. That she can’t just touch him without his permission. Even if she was doing it kindly, she knew he still was getting used to the feeling of contact. It was something that had taken years for her to accept openly. Unwanted touches were the last thing he needed.

She opened her mouth to speak. Skipping that ‘are you alright?’ nonsense. “Was it bad?”

James sat up in bed, revealing his half naked form. His chest was all muscle, and the sight of it had the same effect on Natasha as it had years ago. But she forced herself not to look there, but at his eyes. And those blue eyes had a beauty all of their own, so it wasn’t a bad trade.

“What did you do?” he questioned instead of answering the question she had asked.

“I applied pressure to your temple, then did rhythmic strokes on your arm,” she explained plainly. He shook his head to her response.

“But it woke me up, without me lashing out. How did you know to do that?” he persisted.

“I’ve had experience in that arena,” she shrugged out the half-truth. 

As they sat in silence, James thought she was going to ask him the question. The question everyone asked. The question Steve had asked him when he found him trapped in a nightmare a few nights before. The ‘do you want to talk about it?’ question. 

James knew it wasn’t a demand, and was always spoken softly, and with kindness, yet he got annoyed with it every single time. It felt pushy, even if it was asked in innocence. He found it different, but refreshing, that Natasha didn’t ask this question. 

And for some odd reason, it made him want to tell her. He found her presence comforting, which was unusual. He never found comfort in a stranger, but she was different. Even with this feeling, James’ head won over his heart, and he kept the nightmare to himself.

“I’ll be in the living room. Call if you need anything,” she smiled at him kindly then left the room.

Once again, this feeling overcame James, seeming like it had come from nowhere. He suddenly felt like he wanted her to stay. He wanted to stop her from leaving the room. He wanted to reach out and grab her hand. But he did nothing. Just sat there and watched her leave, wondering what in the world those feelings meant, and where in the world they came from.

***

It happened again two nights later. Though this time, Natasha entered James’ room due to a cry. A heart-wrenching cry. He was shaking, convulsing almost. His nightmare must’ve been horrible to leave him in this state.

Quickly, before he became violent, she sat on the edge of his bed, placed pressure to his temple and rubbed his arm. It took longer to take him out of the nightmare this time. He stayed asleep, though his body had calmed for the most part. He eventually woke but didn’t move away from her touch like last time. Instead, he just laid there, as silent tears soaked his pillow.

Before Natasha even noticed her actions, she began to run her hands through his hair. His soft hair. And it surprised her, that once she had realized what she was doing, he didn’t stop her. Instead, he closed his eyes again, as if the touch relaxed him.

“Steve doesn’t know about the nightmares does he?” she asked while still stroking his head.

“He witnessed one, but… I can’t. He’ll ask about it and if I explain…”  
“He’ll look at you differently. I know the feeling,” Natasha sighed.

“You do?” he asked. He still didn’t look at her, just kept his gaze straight ahead towards the wall.

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“And what makes Steve look at you differently?” he asked. 

Natasha sucked in a breath, “My past.”  
“It’s always people’s pasts,” James shook his head. “You know mine. Steve said you helped him track me down, so you must know a great deal about it.”

“In a way,” she nodded. 

“Well, I don’t know yours. What’s your life story?”

Now Natasha sat there stunned. She knew he asked it out of curiosity, but she felt stuck. So much of her past included him in it. Should she push this button? Or lie and leave it untouched?  
“I… it’s hard to talk about,” she muttered and stopped rubbing his head for a moment as she thought. He must’ve gotten the memo, that she didn’t want to talk, and filled the silence with another statement that led to a question.

“You’re different from the others for many reasons. You don’t look at me with fear, but I can’t read your eyes. You’re kind but don’t show it often. And you’re part of the Avengers but don’t have any supernatural gifts or powers,” he stated. “I just wanted to know why.”

Natasha chuckled which seemed to make James relax a bit more. He had feared that she would turn down this question as well, but she didn’t.

“I don’t look at you with fear because I’m not afraid of you. I don’t show my emotions because I’ve been trained not to, though I do care for every person on the Avengers team. I’m an Avenger because I’m a skilled spy, and now a skilled agent,” she explained with a shrug.

“And your eyes?” he asked.

“You can’t read my eyes because I have no tell,” she replied curtly. But he had always been able to read her. And yet now, he couldn't.

***

It might’ve been because Natasha had turned in early for the next few nights (leaving the living room empty), but James hadn’t had a nightmare for the rest of the week (that she knew of). But the next Monday night, Natasha was woken out of her own sleep, with Sam shaking her out of her slumber.

“What, Sam?” she asked, groggily.

“It’s James,” he stated.

“Nightmare?” she asked, getting up and pulling a sweatshirt over her tank top.

“Yeah, Steve said you were good at calming him down.”

“How did Steve know that?” she asked. She hadn’t told Steve and she assumed James hadn’t either, since he was already trying to hide his nightmares from the blonde.

“Tony talked about it during breakfast one day. Said you two were getting cuddly based off of the footage Jarvis had collected,” he eyed her quizzically.

“Well tell Tony that comforting somebody after they relive some of the most horrifying experiences in their life isn’t the exact definition of ‘cuddly’,” she rolled her eyes and walked out of the room.

“But you do want…”

“Sam, this isn’t the time,” Natasha said through gritted teeth as she walked quickly down the hall towards the stairs.

James’ and Steve’s floor was a level below her own, and she had decided not to take the elevator. No offense to Steve, but with him trying to calm James down after a nightmare, things could escalate quickly, in the wrong direction. Sure, Steve was as kind as they got and as cuddly as a teddy bear, but (from experience) James couldn’t just be woken up out of a nightmare by some shaking.

Natasha didn’t even knock, just entered the room to find James tackling Steve to the ground. Yep, definitely didn’t wake him up the right way.

“Please Buck! It’s me, Steve!” he tried talking to the solider while dodging the punches that were aimed at his face. He looked up to see Nat and Sam entering the room. “He’s not listening.”

“He can’t,” Natasha ran over to where the two were brawling, and pulled James’ arms behind his back, then pinned his legs to the floor.

He fought for a few moments, his adrenaline and instincts taking over. Yet Natasha stayed strong, holding him there for a few more seconds before he gave up and his muscles relaxed. He entered the realm of sleep. Natasha got off of him and began to stroke his arm while applying the pressure to his head.

“What did you mean he couldn’t hear me? He was awake,” Steve asked, while rubbing is right arm that was already turning a shade of dark blue from a punch.

“His eyes were open, but he wasn’t awake. He was still living in his nightmare. If you don’t wake him up gently, then…” she sighed and looked at James sprawled on the floor. She wanted to reach out for his hair again but pulled back. Both Steve and Sam were here. It wasn’t the right time.

“How do you know what to do?” Sam asked while he watched her resume applying pressure to his temples and running her fingers up and down his arm.

“I learned it somewhere, don’t know exactly. First time he had a nightmare ended up just like you Steve, maybe add a few bruises to my face,” she recalled the time in that motel room, then continued. Ignoring Steve and Sam’s glance at each other. “But then I found the technique worked on him and…”

Steve nodded, and stared at her almost like he was trying to memorize her motions. Just then, James woke up. His eyes darted across the room, looking first at Natasha, then at Steve and finally Sam.

“What happened?” he asked, sitting up off the ground.

“Natasha had to pin you down, I guess Steve couldn’t take you out of your nightmare,” Sam explained.

James then looked from Steve to Natasha, his eyes eventually landed on the growing bruise on Steve’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry to all of you,” he sighed and stood up. Steve walked over and hugged him tightly.

“You don’t have to be,” he added and James nodded. “And I’ll be here for you if you need anything. Natasha too.”

Natasha nodded at him when he looked to her. And something suddenly clicked in his brain. He didn’t know if it was from the nightmare, or from just her expression, but now he could read those eyes. Those light sage-green eyes. And their expression of forgiveness and caring.

And for some odd reason, just from her gaze, his heart skipped a beat.

***

The next nightmare James had, nearly a month and a half from the “incident”, he sought out Natasha. He had woken himself out of his sleep, covered in sweat and shaking. The same scene had replayed in his head for the third night in a row. Most times he would wake before it got bad, this time he didn’t.

He was in Stalingrad for a bizarre assignment. Usually all of his missions consisted of chasing somebody down, assassinating a government official or even infiltrating an “enemy” base. But starting a fire was never a mission he had expected.

HYDRA was still in his head, so when he lit a set of houses located on a quiet street on fire, he thought nothing of it. Usually, the nightmare would stop there. With him lighting the match. But that night, in continued far longer.

The Solider was told to wait, to hide in the forest behind the neighborhood. He watched the flames grow and grow. Cries and screams echoed from the street. People panicking and calling for help. The nightmare forced him to just stand and watch. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything to stop the chaos he created.

And the memory plays again and again, but in different locations. He lights a fire in Anadyr, Norilsk, Uglich, Belogorsk, Snezhinsk, Volsk, Liski, and 20 other towns that he can’t remember. Little did the solider know that his 28 fires left 28 young girls as orphans to be collected into the Red Room’s clutches.

Even without that knowledge, the fires and flames left him shameful and full of guilt. These people were beyond innocent. The recollection of what he did, on top of the rest of the horrifying acts he had committed, left him shaking in his bed.

Warily, while trying to walk steadily on his feet, he got up out of his bed and walked through the hallways towards the living room. Relief filled him when he saw her there. He could make out her silhouette in the moonlight that fell into the room through the window, giving it a gentle white glow.

Natasha’s hair was tied up in a loose bun, a few red strands fell into her face and upon her back. She sat, curled up in a blanket, reading something. Before he could even make one step into the room, she turned around to face him and shifted her position.

They didn’t exchange words, no need. There was an unspoken understanding between the two. James made his way across the living room and sat on the couch next to Natasha. She was shocked when he laid his head against her side, like his mind was too heavy to hold by himself. 

Her fingers lingered over his head, which James noticed, only to pull her palm down onto his hair. 

“You can rub it, I like it,” he explained.

She only nodded. Her gaze was fixed on the window as she stroked his strands. His brunette hair was getting longer, Natasha had noticed. Maybe he would allow her to cut it. She couldn’t picture Steve being a great barber, and she knew James wouldn’t trust just anyone to hold sharp objects near his face. But did he trust her enough to even consider letting her to do it? She didn’t know yet. 

They just sat there for a few minutes, eventually turning into half an hour. James’ breaths slowed to a pace that would match sleep, yet Natasha knew he was awake. After her wrist had gotten tired from the continuous movement, she simply rested her hand over his back. 

The touch calmed him, anchored him almost. He didn’t know the source of this connection with Natasha, but he found that he did, in fact, trust her. Nearly fully. Almost as much as he trusted Steve. So… he spoke. For the first time in weeks, he decided that he wanted to tell her what had happened in his dream.

“My nightmare uncovered a new memory,” he started. Natasha’s gaze that was originally on the window, then eventually focused more on her book, switched to James. And he could read her eyes. They were kind, tender, a bit curious as well. He realized he liked looking at her eyes.

After a few moments, his mind returned from this detour, to the nightmare. He just hoped there hadn’t been an awkward pause in between.

“I had burned a house in Stalingrad. That was the main one I remember. But not just that one, multiple houses. Neighborhoods filled with children. And people had died because of me. I knew I had killed people, but kids? Parents? Families? Lighting their homes on fire? And I didn’t even care? What type of person could do that?” he explained slowly. His eyes met hers again, yet his vision was blurred through the tears he didn’t dare to let fall. She had already seen him cry before, it wasn’t that much of a shocker; yet it was habit, to not let his emotions show through.

“That wasn’t you. That was HYDRA. You would never do something like that, ever. You’re too good to do that,” she comforted. She began to stroke his back this time. Stalingrad? House fire? How her parents had died? It was no coincidence. Even with this new knowledge, she didn’t become angry at him. She still stood by her words - that, that wasn’t him. That it was HYDRA, the Red Room, even both combined. 

Meanwhile, James had wanted to believe her words, but he shook his head.

“You say it’s the programming, but what if the programming is still there? What if I just snap? What if I do something like that again?” 

“You won’t, you know why?” she stated, her voice had a soft edge to it. 

“Why?”

“Because HYDRA is gone. And if they return, you have Steve to protect you. The Avengers to protect you. I’ll protect you. You won’t ever go back to that hell. I promise you; I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.”

Natasha’s gaze looked straight into James’ eyes. She was completely serious. Her eyes said it all. That promise, it was true. And it surprised James how much she cared for him. She did care for him, right?

“I could still snap. There’s this set of words, they’ll trigger me. I can’t have those in my head, Natasha. Now with Fury offering me a possible job with the Avengers, I need to get those triggers out of my head,” he explained, his voice desperate.

“I know. But there’ll be doctors,” she sighed.

Wait up, how did she know he hated doctors?

Natasha noticed her slip up immediately, and just hoped James wouldn’t question her knowledge of one of his greatest fears.

“Then I’ll have to face it. I can’t let them control me again. Doctors and all, I need to get this stuff out of my head.”

He watched her nod and they returned to their silence. The two of them stayed on the couch until morning. James had fallen asleep again, yet Natasha couldn’t. She didn’t know if she would accidentally invade his space more than he wanted. It was hard, all she wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms, but she held back.

Hours later she was greeted with the morning sun followed by Steve and Sam walking through the kitchen to prepare breakfast before their morning run.

They both walked into the room, not noticing Natasha and the solider on the couch, until Sam pointed towards the two while he made himself oatmeal.

“Oh hey, Nat,” Steve walked over, munching on a granola bar. She knew he would need at least three to satisfy his appetite.

“Hey,” she looked up at Steve and followed his gaze that landed on James.

“Nightmare?”

Natasha only nodded. Then eventually added. “He wants his triggers removed. Said even if he has to face doctors he’ll do it.”

Steve sighed. “Do we even know a doctor that can do that?”

“Bruce might know someone?” Natasha shrugged. Steve nodded, taking another bite off the bar. 

“I’m glad he’s talking to you,” he smiled at how Bucky’s head was laid in Natasha’s lap. James had shifted a bit once he had fallen asleep, thus his head ending up on her lap.

“Yeah, me too,” she replied. Which she really was, just… she wished he would remember.

“He remember anything about you?”

Natasha lightly, almost secretively pressed her hand onto his pulse point on his neck. Good, he was still asleep. The worst thing that could happen would be if he overheard their conversation.

“No.”

“He will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Steve took in a breath then let it out slowly.

“I don’t know. I hope so, Nat. I really do.”

“I know, Steve. And I know you’ve felt this feeling before, with Peggy,” Natasha added. The Captain shook his head.

“It’s not the same,” he muttered. “Your situation is worse, by far.”

“But look, he’s still here. He still might… I don’t know,” she explained. “But for you, Peggy already has her own life.”

Now he nodded, realizing that Nat’s statement was true.

“You suggesting I move on?” he asked sincerely.

“If you find a great girl, one you love, just don’t feel guilty. There’s no reason for you to feel guilty, Steve. You deserve that life as well.”  
He smiled at Natasha. Thankful for her words. It was just the push he needed, that sort of confirmation on what to do moving forward.

“Like I said, call that nurse,” she quipped. Steve just shook his head.

“Maybe, but right now, I have to go for a run,” he smiled at the two of them one last time before jogging across the room to grab his coat and join Sam by the elevator door. 

“Have fun you two!” Natasha called to them as the elevator doors opened.

“Ha, thanks,” Sam laughed.


	3. To Wakanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: torture and abuse (Red Room) content, mentions of harm/death to children
> 
> I don't really know how to summarize this one, sorry. James starts his journey on regaining his memory, Natasha is nervous to say the least.

Turns out Bruce did know a doctor that could preform an operation to help remove James’ triggers. A group of doctors in Wakanda said they could have it completed with their advanced technology.

Natasha was surprised to say the least when James had asked her to come along. She assumed he only wanted Steve there, predicting that he hoped the other Avengers wouldn’t have to see him in that sort of state, yet he asked her.

“I,” he took a deep breath, “I want you to come with me. Steve’s coming too but…”

He found it hard to explain the reason behind it. He didn’t even know the reason himself, it was just a feeling. It was that new trust he that had found in her. 

“I’ll come, when do we leave,” she responded with a kind smile.

“Thursday.”

Now the three of them were on a jet to Wakanda. Natasha looked out the window at the ground below, growing closer and closer to them as the pilot continued their decent.

“It’s beautiful,” Steve sighed as, he too, looked out the window at the upcoming settlement. 

The city was breathtaking to say the least. It was futuristic, filled with new technologies Natasha couldn’t even imagine. She had barely even known that this place existed, due to staying hidden in the African terrain and protected by a dome-like forcefield.

She noticed James taping his finger against the armrest. A nervous tick she didn’t know he had. The Winter Solider wasn’t allowed to have a nervous tick. Perhaps it was something 1940’s Bucky had done.

“It’s going to be fine,” she assured him after he continued to tap on the armrest for a few more seconds.

“I know, it’s just… nerve-racking.”

Natasha nodded.

“These people know what they’re doing Buck. If anyone can solve this, they can,” Steve added. James gave the captain a kind glance of appreciation for the reassuring statement.

The plane touched down and the three were greeted by a set of Wakandan guards along with King T’Challa and his sister, Shuri. 

“Thank you for having us, your majesty,” Steve thanked respectfully while the king shook his hand.

“It’s my pleasure, really. I’m glad we can help your friend, Bucky was it?” T’Challa switched his focus onto James.

“Bucky, James, all the same,” he responded shaking the king’s hand with his flesh one.

“A metal arm?” the king pointed to his left arm.

“Yeah,” he sighed, shyly. It was a sensitive subject. The arm was just a reminder of everything that happened to him and everything he had done. James found that he wanted to take it off, thinking he would be better off with just one arm instead of looking at that crimson red star everyday. The only problem was that fact that he didn’t exactly know how to take the darn thing off.

“It seems worn, lots of scratches. My sister, Shuri, can make you a new one, if you would like,” he explained.

James looked from T’Challa to Shuri, then to Steve and Nat before returning his focus onto the two Wakandans.

“Yes, thank you, if you don’t mind the trouble,” he practically beamed.

“Let’s go then,” Shuri shook her head, and then led the way into a tall building.

“Don’t mind my sister, we just don’t get these sorts of visitors often,” T’Challa joked.

“It’s understandable,” Natasha agreed.

The king smiled briefly at her before leading them through the building and into a lab.

“What will you be doing?” Steve asked once they entered the workspace.

“Well that, Captain America, is a complicated question. First I have to do a scan to asses what state his brain is in. If his memory itself isn’t fully recovered, I would say focus on that first. We don’t know if there may be any uncovered triggers hidden in the forgotten memories,” the princess explained.

“So if his full memory isn’t recovered, you’ll have a way to bring it all back?” Natasha asked, which got a glance from Steve.

“Yes, stated in simpler terms of course.”

“Do you want that?” Natasha asked him. He thought for a moment before answering.

“Yes, I want to try to return to at least a feeling of normalcy. Having all my memories back, even if they’re bad ones, will help,” he replied.

“Alright, I’ll set up for the scan.”

***

Less than an hour later, Shuri had assessed the scan and explained to them the results.

“The majority of your memory has returned,” she started. “About 56% precent of it. The rest is either still developing or blocked off completely.”

“What do you mean by ‘blocked off’?” James questioned.

“Whatever memory wipes they did for those certain sectors were completed more ‘efficiently’, meaning they were practically successful in exterminating that memory,” Shuri explained.

“And you can undo it?” he asked again.

“Possibly. Only if we try can we tell. It’s like a neuron blockade, it might be harder to recover those memories, yet it seems manageable.”

“Then I want it done. The sooner the better.”

“I’ll get started now,” Shuri nodded and then left the room to start prepping for the procedure. 

“I thought I had regained most of my memories, but only 56% is recovered? How much more is there?” James asked both Steve and Nat. Steve shrugged but looked to Natasha expectantly. There was a lot to be uncovered.

***

Natasha and Steve waited in the lobby for hours now. She didn’t know how long this procedure would take, but every minute that passed by made her more anxious and nervous. If he got all his memories back, he would remember, right? What would his reaction be? Would he accept those feelings he had towards her in those memories, or has he changed so much he won’t feel the same way anymore? Because Natasha knew for certain that her feelings towards James hadn’t changed a bit. 

She had sat next to Steve in practical silence the entire time. He had paced a bit, sketched some here and there, talked on the phone with someone to ease his nerves (Nat swore it was Sharon, just from his laugh and tone), and eventually sat back down in the chair and tried to read a book. By the amount of times he looked expectantly at the door and the clock, she could tell he wasn’t getting very far in that novel.

“Do you think the procedure will work?” she asked. Her voice wasn’t that loud, but Steve had heard it.

“I don’t know, I really hope so. He needs this win,” Steve sighed.

Natasha nodded. She hoped it would work too.

“You’re nervous,” he added after a moment of observing her. Damn, was she really that obvious?  
“You noticed, looks like I’m loosing my touch,” she joked. But Steve shook his head, his face still serious.

“You have nothing to be nervous of, Nat.”

“But what if he looks at me differently after this, not in a good way. What if he sees me like I’m… I’ve murdered people in those memories of his, in the ones that have me in them. What if he thinks…”

“If you’re about to call yourself a monster, please don’t. Because you aren’t.”

“Really Steve? After finding out about bits of my past, did that word not cross your mind?” she snapped.

He just shook his head, but didn’t look her in the eye, nor did he speak. He had. Maybe not that exact word, but he had thought something similar. The weight of that realization hit her like a truck.

“I’m going to get some air,” she stated and left the room, heading towards nowhere in particular. She didn’t exactly know her way around yet.

Steve didn’t stop her. Instead he had his head in his hands as he sat in the comfy armchair. He had messed up with that response (more of, lack of response), badly.

***

Natasha retreated to an outdoor garden. She watched as some people roamed the area, preoccupied with what they were doing, yet not occupied enough to not steal a glance at her. She assumed it was the red hair. People always seemed to stare at that first.

She sat on a bench that was located right next to a small pond. Little fish swam in the shallow waters contently, not giving a care to the world. Natasha wished she could be like that fish, instead she was a nervous wreck. Her mind was swarmed with “what-ifs” and scenarios of what could happen during James’ procedure. 

What if they made a mistake and he lost all his memory? What if he was triggered during the operation and went berserk? What if Shuri wasn’t successful? What if she was? Would he even recognize her? What if he hated her after this? What if he was mad that she hadn’t told him earlier the fact that she did know him?

STOP! She told herself in her head. This wasn’t going to get her anywhere, no. She had to calm down. Slowly, she breathed in and out and pushed all her worries out of her mind. She thought of James, that he would forgive her, remember her, he always did. Why would she think differently now? Another memory resurfaced at the thought…

o0o

(one month two weeks after the graduation ceremony)

James and Natalia were training again. Sparring to be exact, under the watchful gaze of the highest KGB representatives the Red Room had ever hosted in history (or at least that’s what they told the girls).   
Natalia was never nervous, ever. Being nervous was a weakness, yet she couldn’t seem to help it. The two men’s faces were a blank slate, not a trace of an expression for her to gage. She didn’t know if she was doing a good job or a terrible one, that was precisely what was making her nervous.

“Ignore them, think I’m the enemy,” James whispered only loud enough for them two to hear, through closed lips. He had learned the skill before he had arrived to the Red Room, and eventually taught Natalia. It was one of the few ways they could communicate under the supervision of their handlers.

“But you’re not,” she stated.

“Don’t hold back,” is what he responded. “You need to do good for them. A lot is at stake.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she rolled her eyes and threw the first punch, nearly landing it if James hadn’t blocked it and used his momentum to land a kick of his own.

“Darn you,” she mustered.

“Do better,” he smirked back.

And oh she did. Just with those two words did she enter a whole other zone of focus. Quickly, she calculated her next moves, executing them gracefully and quickly, leaving James, in the end, pinned to the floor. The two men didn’t clap. Madame B just gave her a curt nod, motioning for her to stand before them while James left the room.

“We’re taking interest in your progress, Black Widow. New assignments will be given to you through Madame B, starting your first next week. The details will be discussed later, but the overview of the assignment will require you to use your wide range of a skill set to gather information from a government official.”

The two men then left through the double doors, leaving Natalia and Madame B alone in the room.

“It’s an honorable assignment really, not many of our widows are permitted to undertake the task of abducting and or executing children as bribery, too messy. Congratulations Widow.”

Natalia kept her composure strong until she walked out of that training room. Children? Abduct and execute children? She could barely breath, yet she didn’t show it. James did notice though, and quickly he was by her side, pulling her into a janitor closet.

“Breathe. You’ll be alright,” he said calmly.

“I don’t know if I can do it. I’ve seen girls die, I’ve killed some of my ‘sisters’ before. But I can’t do it again, not when they’re innocent, I can’t,” she rambled in hushed tones.

James put his hand on the small of her back, applying just enough pressure that it was calming. Eventually, Natalia regained her breath.

“You can’t fail them, if you do you’ll…”  
“Be eliminated, I know… but…”  
“You will be okay. Natalia I,” he started then paused, not knowing whether he should complete his sentence or not. He decided to complete it. “It’s a wonderful thing. You’re not like the rest. Most wouldn’t think twice about the assignment. You’ve got a heart. And you must keep it…”

“What if it’s already lost?” she shook her head. Madame B told the girls that none of them had a ‘heart’, not one with feelings anyhow, and she had believed it. During that time part of herself still did. In the future that same part still questioned whether or not she had that ‘heart’. But James had always been there to prove otherwise.

“It isn’t lost. You still have it. And you must keep it. Never show it to them, if you keep your heart hidden, you won’t loose it,” he explained.

“And if I forget it? If I do loose it on my own?” she asked.

“You’re a strong woman Natalia, stubborn too. Nobody will ever take your heart away from you, your life maybe, but not your soul.”

And that’s when her beliefs changed. She no longer believed in what Madame B had said about her ‘heart’, now she believed in James.


	4. To Wakanda (pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will the operation work? That remains to be seen. Read to find out.

She heard Steve approaching before she saw him. He seemed to be slowly walked over, his hands fidgeting slightly.

“Natasha, I’m really sorry, I…” he began once he reached her. She stood up and shook her head.

“It’s fine, really. I shouldn’t have asked that sort of question in the first place,” she interrupted.

“No, Nat I…”  
“Can you let me be the righteous one for once, Steve?” she quipped. A half-hearted smile graced her lips, yet it didn’t really reach her eyes.

It still calmed Steve down and he felt more relaxed and comfortable to speak with her again. That was one of the things Steve loved about Natasha, unlike what he had assumed about her when they had first met, she had a completely lighthearted attitude and tried not to dwell on silly short-lived arguments (unlike some of the other Avengers). Don’t get her wrong, she could hold a grudge if she wanted to, but around her friends, she tended to forgive easily.

“The operation ended half an hour ago and the drugs are wearing off. He’s just resting now,” Steve informed.

“Did they say it worked?”

Steve sighed. “I don’t know yet, just told me he would be waking up soon.”

Natasha nodded. The lack of information made her nervous. “I want to see him.”  
“Let’s go then,” Steve motioned towards the building and wrapped his arm over her shoulder as they walked. He knew she would need any support she could get for this.

***

“Everything seems to be back except for approximately 25% of his memory,” Shuri announced once they were all in the lab, James included. Yet he was still asleep on a hospital cot that looked rather comfortable compared to most.

“Why exactly?” Steve asked, looking at the charts she had projected onto a screen.

“One of his wipes were different from the rest, full blown, most likely focused on one subject or course of events. It would’ve taken a more recent wiping to get that job done,” she explained.

“Recent. Possibly during our fight in DC, after he recognized me,” Natasha breathed, as if she was speaking to herself. 

“But why wouldn’t they wipe everything out? What certain event or course of events would be so important to only wipe those?” he questioned.

“It’s me, Steve. I’m those events,” Natasha explained. The idea finally clicked in Steve’s head and he turned to her. “He must’ve said something, that he recognized me. They took me out of his head. Doesn’t surprise me.”

Her form became closed off. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, her eyes looking at nothing in particular, totally dazed.

“Can we fix it? Is there another operation or something we can do?” Steve asked Shuri.

“I’m sorry, I’ve done everything I could. The only way he would regain those memories would be if they came back on their own,” Shuri sighed and watched Natasha walk over to James, who was still asleep.

Steve opened his mouth to say something else, maybe pitch an idea, but Natasha spoke first.

“What about the triggers, did you remove them?” she asked, yet her focus was solely on James. Her fingertips grazed his palm, and she eventually held his hand, noticing they had taken his metal one off.

“Yes, if it worked, his triggers should be gone, yet we should still test to make sure,” Shuri explained. Natasha nodded.

“And how would we do that?” Steve asked.

“Somebody will have to read the words, we’ll have to see if he reacts. Simple, but could possibly be dangerous,” she responded.

“Dangerous, then we…”

“I can do it,” Nat interrupted. Steve shook his head. “I don’t think anybody else can pronounce the Russian words so…”

She let her voice fade as she looked down at James’ sleeping figure. How she wished he would remember her. All those memories, for him they’re just gone. Poof! The idea made her lightheaded.

“But if he attacks? If the triggers are still there?” he questioned.

“Then we’ll have to calm him down. We’ve been on riskier missions, Steve. Even for just the two of us,” Natasha shrugged.

“But this is the Winter Solider we’re talking about,” Steve shook his head.

“It’s better than him being triggered on a mission. At least here it’s a controlled and safe environment. Trust me on this one.”

“Okay,” he eventually agreed. 

***

James woke up about half an hour later. By then Natasha was talking with T’Challa on the security measures that needed to be taken, while Steve caught Bucky up to speed with their plan.

“And Natasha would tell you the words, hoping you won’t react. Shuri thinks they’re gone for good, but we still have to make sure,” Steve finished.

James only nodded and then made his way over to Natasha, who was now standing alone once T’Challa had left the room.

“Steve told me the run down,” he sighed.

“Good, T’Challa says we can begin in half an hour or so,” she replied, patting his shoulder before beginning to walk away. James stopped her.

“I could hurt you, Natasha,” he shook his head.

“You won’t,” she responded. “Plus Steve will be there if I can’t knock you out. If. But Shuri says the operation most likely worked, you probably won’t react at all.”

“But there’s always that chance.”

“James, this is the next step to a normal life again. One without all those strings from HYDRA. Don’t let your fears over my safety get in the way,” Natasha explained.

“You’re definition of ‘normal’ is being an agent,” James chuckled to himself. 

“For the good guys,” Natasha added with a smile. “I’m not gonna let you refuse to do this because of me, so.”

“So I guess I should do it.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

She gave him a quick hug before leaving the room to head to where T’Challa said a secure sector would be cleared for the test. Nat was glad he was doing this. Back to a new normal. That sounded good for James. 

***

Natasha took a breath and looks at James through the glass. Glass that could shatter if he was provoked enough. 

“You ready?” she asked. And he nodded. They were considering strapping him into another contraption to keep him contained (just incase) but both Natasha and James refused. She knew that being strapped to a chair would just create a whole new amount of horrid memories to resurface. If he didn’t lash out from the words, he just might over being strapped into a chair.

She then began to say the words. A random set of words, which she pronounced in her perfect Russian. 

“Longing.” No reaction, except a slight flinch. He did recognize it. 

“Rusted.” Flinched again, like the word was giving him a slap to the face, yet he didn’t seem provoked. 

“Furnace. Daybreak.” Still nothing hinting at him going full out Winter Solider.

“Seventeen. Benign. Nine.” He continued to pace the room, almost nervously. 

“Homecoming. One.” Natasha saw Steve and the others watching intently on the two of them. Wait to see if James would snap.

“Freight car.” He most definitely flinched at that one.

“Ready to comply,” Natasha finishes. There’s a moment of silence as everyone in the room holds their breath, waiting, anticipating James’ next move.

“I’m okay,” he says instead. A smile graces his features, only causing Natasha to beam. They had done it. The triggers were gone.

Steve grinned at James, then watched as Natasha left the glass room to give the ex-assassin a hug. Yes, they had done it.


	5. Sparring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha reflects on a memory while sparring with James.

With the triggers out of James’ mind, he felt much more comfortable to train with and around the other Avengers. That little voice of doubt still spoke in his mind, telling him that he could hurt them, that he could get so in his head that he won’t even notice until it’s too late; but he ignored it, for the most part.

The rush of new memories wasn’t the most beneficial. Natasha and Steve, and maybe Sam too at times, would notice that Bucky (or James) would zone out more than usual. Nightmares were still a common occurrence, they were mostly just replayed memories, and James would usually end up on the couch with Natasha. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes they wouldn’t, it all depended on the nightmare.

Thankfully, though, the memories didn’t play too much of a role with his training. Sure, now he remembered more techniques and saw the moves he used to slit people’s throats in the past, but the memories didn’t directly effect his training, and James was glad. Nick Fury had taken interest too, knowing that if somebody with James’ skill level was on their side of the fight, things could be looking up.

So James, Steve, Natasha and Sam (and occasionally another Avenger or two), would go to the training room every morning to warm up. Both Steve and Nat had less time on their hands with more assignments from Nick, but they of course needed time to train. And Steve enjoyed his time training with Bucky. They would spar sometimes, other days they would try to outrun each other on the treadmills, and occasionally they would box for fun, yet boxing wasn’t much of a tool during a fight against HYDRA agents or otherworldly aliens. 

Natasha, on the other hand, didn’t like to directly train with James. It reminder her too much of those past times. Instead she would watch the two super-soldiers spar with interest, or just work on her own skills: practicing her form of punches and kicks on the punching bag, using the indoor shooting range for target practice, and running on the treadmill for endurance (since she didn’t exactly get any from a serum or powers).

But one day, as she was on the punching bag and Steve and James were sparring, James called her over. 

“Natasha, wanna spar?”

She looked up, speechless, not really knowing how to respond. Steve noticed her thoughts turning in her head and was about to make and excuse for her himself, before she quickly agreed.

“Sure,” she shrugged.

He gave her a questioning glance, but she nodded assuringly. 

“I shouldn’t avoid him remember,” she whispered to Steve as they passed by each other, her rewrapping her hands with tape. 

“Right,” Steve nodded, yet he still wasn’t sure if she was very comfortable with the idea.

“Ready?” she asked once she entered the mat, her stance lethal but strong. She balanced on the top of her toes, already light on her feet, bouncing. 

“Ready,” he nodded.

And they begun.They circled, dodged, kicked and advanced towards one another. This dangerous dance felt all too familiar. How he would try to get her to block her right so she would create and opening on her left. How his stance would change when she would try to leap onto his shoulders. How his kicks always landed on her claves or hips, but never higher. How he would look at her with a grin when she landed a punch, then would advance. It felt like that time. Well, there were many times. But it felt too much like that one time, in the training room, just four months and two weeks after her graduation ceremony. 

o0o

(four months, two weeks after the graduation ceremony)

“Let’s spar,” he said after she had finished learning the new chokehold technique Madame B requested her to learn. “I need a perfect agent, anything valuable must be taught to the widow,” Natalia had overheard Madame B speaking to James about it. Earlier that day. 

She nodded at James. Sparring was something she quite enjoyed, and when nobody else was around, it was even fun. As fun as fun could be allowed in the Red Room.

James wrapped his hand and Natalia did the same, before they both took the mat. They circled for a moment, analyzing each other. Though Natalia practically knew most of James’ tactics, and James knew her’s, but analyzation was still habit and a crucial part needed for success in hand-to-hand combat.

Natalia made the first move, trying to land a side kick onto his flesh arm. He took the opening and grabbed her ankle to throw her onto the ground. Perfect. She used the momentum of the throw down to flip herself right back up, landing a kick to his gut in the process. He stumbled back a second, then came forward again. 

This time he advanced, throwing a set of quick punches, trying to look for an area she would leave open when trying to block his fists. One eventually came and he landed a punch to her right side. They were even.

They continued this back and forth for what felt like forever, they were truly evenly matched (when James still had his mind intact). He had taught her everything he knew, which Natalia played to advantage. After a series of kicks, swings and attempted punches, she saw a slim opening. She slid against the slick mat flooring, kicked his legs underneath him and then threw two punches towards his face so he didn’t have an opportunity to get up. Once she had quickly regained her footing, she pinned him to the ground, putting extra pressure on his metal arm. 

She looked down at him, her face in a smile that came from his little “defeat” and it made James’ heart throb. Before he even knew what he was doing, he moved his face up the few millimeters of space that laid between them, and sealed her lips in a kiss. She tasted like sweet cinnamon with a dash of sweat in the mix. He soon began to crave that taste.

Natalia was, least to say shocked, when James had kissed her. Yet, against her instinct, she didn’t pull away, instead initiated a second peck herself. His lips were soft and fit perfectly against her own. She had to kiss, lure, and seduce for her work. She had done it before, yet nobody had ever made her feel the way she felt when James had kissed her. It felt electrifying while butterflies still fluttered madly in the pit of her stomach.

She eventually broke the kiss, their first kiss, and got up off of him. With an extension of her hand, she helped him up as well.

“We could get caught,” she sighed under her breath. James knew she wasn’t just speaking about that one kiss in that room. She was talking about their displays of affection towards one another, their care and sympathy they showed to each other. What would happen if James was forced under Madame B to punish her for some reason? Many trainers did it without a second thought, not caring. If they began to care for one another would Madame B notice? Would she find out that her two best agents were comprised due to the other.

“We could be, only if we aren’t careful,” he responded.

“And your definition of careful is kissing me in the training room? In the wide open?” she asked quietly, but a smile tainted her lips. Just mentioning the kiss made her heart stutter.

“No, that was reckless, I just couldn’t help myself,” he shook his head. Then continued. “If you don’t want this, whatever this may be, I will not force anything. We can stop this and I will only be your trainer. But I want you to know that I won’t stop looking at you in a different way, it isn’t possible for me. If you want to take a chance, a risk on this, I couldn’t be happier.”  
Natalia thought on his words. Was this worth the risk? If they got caught…. no Natalia didn’t want to think about that.

She nodded, then placed a soft kiss onto his cheek. “I’ll risk it.”

James stood dumbfounded as he watched her leave. Already, he knew he would do anything for that girl. He had somehow secretly known it from the beginning.

o0o

(back in the present)

They continued their back and forth, swings followed by kicks and punches, until Natasha saw an opening. Fate would have it, the same opening she had seen that day that was ingrained into her memory. She slid a kick under his legs, causing him to fall, threw a punches to keep him distracted and on the ground. Then she pinned him to the floor, adding extra pressure to his new metal arm. It was gold and black, she had to say she liked it. 

She looked down at him like she had done that day, their faces millimeters apart. Such a short distance. Natasha had almost… but she stopped herself, shook herself out of that daze, and released him.

She must’ve held James pinned to the ground for a few seconds too long, because once she had gotten up, Steve glanced at her with questioning eyes. She shook her head and left the training room in a hurry.

“What’s wrong?” James had asked Steve when he noticed Natasha was gone.

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged, then went back to his punching bag.

James had noticed how she lingered, her eyes looking into his with a sort of passion. Was it odd that he had wanted to kiss her in that moment? Definitely odd. “You’ve only known her for a few months, get a handle on yourself,” James thought in his head. But damn, if she hadn’t released him soon, her probably would’ve done it anyways.


	6. Oh, I'm Falling for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony hosts a party to congratulate James on Nick officially letting him join the Avengers. Meanwhile, James can't keep his eyes off of Natasha.

After a month of training or so, Nick had eventually allowed James to become an agent. And even an Avenger. Tony had hosted a party for his achievement, the billionaire had warmed up to the super-soldier and now was considered a friend to James. The party was wonderful, a little over the top if you asked James, but that was just Tony for you.

“He likes to spend his money,” Steve shrugged when James looked in awe at how the compound was decorated. He was glad Steve had encouraged him to wear a suit once he saw everyone in elegant wear. 

“Hey man, congrats. You’re officially at Nick Fury’s beck and call,” Sam joked, punching Bucky’s arm in a brotherly way. But he winced after he had done it, accidentally punching the metal one.

“I hate it when you wear long sleeves,” he muttered, shaking his hand.

“And I love it,” James smirked.

Tony had eventually made his way to the three, smiling at James. 

“Looking sharp, Barnes. Gotta say, you look good in a suit. Trying to impress some ladies tonight?” he asked, while handing him and Steve a drink. Sam already had a beer of his own in hand.

James just scoffed and shook his head while Steve handed the drink back to Tony. “I can’t get drunk.”

“So what? Just enjoy the taste of it, though I do feel bad for you,” he clicked Steve’s glass once he forced it back into the captain’s hands, then walked away before he could protest. 

It was champagne, sweet and bubbly, yet he still didn’t feel like drinking it. James took a sip and smiled.

“God, it’s been forever since I’ve tasted this stuff,” he laughed.

“And you, Mr. Winter Soldier, can get drunk?” Sam asked.

“No, I just enjoy the taste more than Steve does,” James shrugged.

“Because you’re the one who always loved alcohol,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“True, had my first beer at twelve,” he chuckled back.

Sam laughed and started up a conversation along the topic of sweet margaritas Steve may like. Steve of course denied that he would like any alcoholic beverage. 

“I’m starved, I’m going to find some food,” James said, and left the two to their banter.

He ran into Natasha at the appetizer table. She was putting a few freshly made mini crab cakes onto her plate.

“Hey,” she smiled at him when he approached. He couldn’t help but look over her figure. She was wearing a long dark maroon colored dress that actually blended nicely with her hair (almost surprisingly). It accented her curves perfectly, being tight around her waist and middle, while flowing airily from her hip to the ground. The neckline was low, exhibiting a bit of her cleavage he hadn’t really noticed before. Okay, maybe James had noticed, but it wasn’t really showcased as it was that night.

He forced himself to look away after a second, hoping she didn’t just notice how he looked her over. “Stop it! She’s your co-worker, your friend,” he told himself in his head, but it was as if there was some magnetic force he had to her. That feeling of trust had evolved into attraction and he didn’t know how to stop it. He didn’t know if he should.

“Hi,” he replied. “You look… beautiful.” He made the words out, flustered, as he busied his hands by adding a few bread rolls onto his plate followed by some cooked green beans and a couple shrimp.

“Not looking too bad yourself,” she replied with a kind smile. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he didn’t know how to calm it down. “And I noticed you got a haircut.”  
She reached up and ruffled his hair, not exactly ruining it since he didn’t put any gel into it (thankfully). With just a run through it with his own hand, the style was back to normal.

“Thanks, finally went to a barber shop,” he responded, almost shyly. They had talked before, countless times, yet why did he feel so… flustered?  
“Good,” she nodded then began to walk away. “I’m going to sit with Maria and Wanda, have a nice time. You deserve it.”

He watched her walk away, then broke out of the daze and walked back to Steve and Sam before anybody else or Natasha would notice. 

The thing was, that whole time, how he had eyed her, Natasha had noticed. And it gave her hope.

***

A few hours later, most of the guests that James didn’t even know, had left. The only people remaining in the compound were the Avengers, including: Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey, Thor, Bruce, Tony, and Clint; along with a few other important people: like Helen Cho, Pepper, Maria and Jane (Thor’s girlfriend). Sharon had eventually arrived as well, which caused for Steve to leave James and Sam to spend some time with her.

James smiled as he watched the two laugh and talk with each other. He was glad that Steve had eventually found somebody to care for. He knew that the Captain would always love Peggy, as his first love, but maybe Sharon was the right person for him for the future.

After Sam had left the actual party, only half an hour later, saying he had a counseling meeting tomorrow morning, sharp and early, James was left sitting alone. He looked across the room and found Natasha instantly. She was laughing at something Wanda had said before Vision walked up to her and asked her to dance. Natasha shooed her away, probably telling her to go dance with the toaster, before nursing her own drink by herself.

A good amount of people were near the center of the room, dancing to whatever song was on in the background. Steve and Sharon had made their way over as well, along with Thor and Jane, and Maria danced jokingly with Rhodey (the two being pretty close friends). 

“You should ask her to dance,” Tony said, walking up to James. “I’m going to grab Pep is a sec.”

“Who?” James asked.

“Red, of course. You’ve been eyeing her the whole night,” Tony laughed.

“I don’t know… I don’t think she sees me like that or anything. We’re just friends,” he shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to ruin their friendship and trust, one that he valued so much. Without her, James didn’t know how he would’ve coped with everything.

“Pft,” Tony scoffed. “She looks at you differently too, you know. Only slightly, she’s far too good at hiding all her emotions, but she smiles at you differently compared to how she smiles at Steve or even Clint. That says something.”  
“I don’t know Tony,” James shook his head again. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

“It’s just a dance, solider. Just ask her as a ‘friend’ if that makes you feel better,” he shrugged, then left James alone to decide for himself while he went to ask Pepper to join him on the dance floor.

After a moment, James gave in and made his way over to Natasha, where she still sat alone. 

“Hey, um… do you want to dance?” he asked, shakily. Why in the world did she make him so nervous all of a sudden?

She looked at him with an unreadable expression for a few seconds, yet it felt like minutes. Had he stepped too far? Had he just ruined everything? The questions circulated through his brain. Did she even have a boyfriend? That James didn’t know, but Tony would’ve probably mentioned it if she did. Right?

“Sure,” she gave her response after what felt like an eternity. James let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and took her hand.

Natasha didn’t expect James to ask her to dance. The thought hadn’t even really crossed her mind. But she had noticed his eyes lingering on her for a majority of the night. She didn’t know if it was recognition or maybe just attraction, though both made her heart flutter at the prospect. 

He took her hand and led her onto the floor, just in time for a slow song to play through the speakers spread around the room. Natasha recognized the song, yet she didn’t really know how: It’s You I’m Falling For. 

She walked onto the floor, decently close to the center, and placed her hands on his shoulders, while he placed his own, almost shyly, on her hips. 

Oh, it’s you I’m falling for. My heartbeat just stops for more.

The warmth of his hands soaked through her dress. It felt comforting, familiar.

It’s you I’m dying for. You’re killing me the best way possible.

They moved slowly in tight circles, though the dancer side in Natasha came forward and she led him in a basic two-step waltz (Russian of course).

And if I had the chance, I’d tell you. You’re more than what you see.

She’s danced this waltz with him before. A more complicated one, but she had. In Moscow as a cover. Yet they had danced not as the cover then, but as themselves. Oh, how she wished she could tell him.

And all the fear that you face, is mirrored by your sin.

Why hadn’t she checked? Waited? She could’ve save him then. They could’ve ran away from the Red Room together. Like she had promised.

Oh, it’s you I’m falling for. My heartbeat just stops for more.

Almost as if by habit, she reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck. At first he tenses then relaxes to the touch, letting he hands circle her hips.

It’s you I’m dying for. You’re killing me the best way possible.

And it feels like she’s in that ballroom all over again. She wants to lay her head on his chest and inhale his cologne. But she holds back. They’ve gotten this far, yet an action like that might be too much. No, it would definitely be too much. Why was this so hard? To control herself?

Oh, it’s you I’m falling for. My heartbeat just stops for more.

James tightens his grip by just a bit, as if he doesn’t want to let her go as the song nears its end. Natasha’s heart skips a beat at the movement. He always had that effect on her.

It’s you I’m dying for. 

She would still die for him. But would he?

You’re killing me the best way possible.

Did he remember her? Is this why he asked her to dance? Or why then? Her lack of answers was torture.

The song ended, yet Natasha was so buried in her own thoughts that she barely noticed.

“Natasha,” she heard James whisper.

“Yeah?” she looked up at him.

“The song’s over,” he explained. Everyone on the dance floor were now dancing to a more upbeat song, Natasha didn’t know the title.

“Right,” she nodded, gave James a weak smile, then left the floor and headed back to her drink. This whole “not telling him what they had” thing was getting harder by the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Natasha and James dance to is an actual song: It's You I'm Falling For, by Nfgn. Check it out!


	7. And... he remembers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: mentions of abuse (related to Red Room), hints of rape (also related to Red Room), and a major character injury.

Almost like how Madame B had found out after a few missions, Nick Fury found that James and Natasha worked well with each other. Okay, “well” was an understatement. They worked amazing together. Their movements were almost mirrored by the other, their fighting in sync, and their communication impeccable. Yet it didn’t feel the same, Natasha noticed. Their bond from before hadn’t exactly translated onto the present, but that same trust was still there. A weaker version of it at least. 

Over the course of three months, the two of them had completed about eight missions together, most of them basic infiltrations, nothing that needed more than two agents. They had made quick work and Nick was beyond satisfied.

After every mission, Steve would talk with Nat. “Did he remember you?” He’d ask. “Do you think him going on missions with you will help?” or “Maybe you two fighting together will spark something.”  
But Natasha had her doubts. She would shake her head and sigh, telling Steve that if James couldn’t remember her months past, and Shuri couldn’t unlock those memories, it’s highly unlikely that he’ll remember her. Ever. 

“You could always just tell him. Then he’d…”

“I won’t do that Steve. I’ll never push him into something he might not want,” was her response every time. 

He admired her strength and her devote love for Bucky. To the point where she’d suffer for his well being, yet he couldn’t help but feel bad for her. Even a bit guilty. Guilty over the fact that the soldier remembers him but not her.

After the fifth mission, Steve stopped asking her the questions, already knowing the answers. 

A few weeks after that point, Fury had gathered all the Avengers into a briefing room, with a map, James thought looked like a base, projected onto the screen.

“What’s up, Nick?” Tony asked when entering the room.

“Sit your ass down, Stark. I have a mission for all of you,” he explained impatiently.

“All of us? I thought Black Widow and Winter Soldier over here had the missions covered for the rest of the month. We’re supposed to be on a break,” Tony shot back. Already groaning.

“Yes, all of you. This certain mission is more complicated than I thought. Even with their skills, they won’t be able to do this alone,” Nick continued.

“We’re missing Clint and Banner,” Thor added. Nick rolled his eyes.

“Yes, they’re coming in as soon as possible, now I want to give you all the run down, so will you shut your mouths?” he asked.

Nobody responded.

“Thank you,” he sighed, then stepped up towards the map projected onto the screen. He pressed a button to reveal a few new photos of the location. Seemed like a rundown warehouse, large at that. Maybe even a bit larger than their compound. “This is a secret HYDRA base still in full operation. In the wilderness not far from Ostashkov.”

Natasha glanced at James and he seemed to tense up. He probably knew the place, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

“They’re planning something. A mass shipment of weapons had arrived at the base only a few days ago. They have plenty of agents to carry out orders and some of their top officials are located at the spot. It’s the ‘heart and soul’ of HYDRA’s operations at the moment and we have to take it out before they cause any harm,” he explained. Steve nodded intently, then also glanced at James.

James knew the place. He had been trained, put into cryo and tortured there. It was from before the Red Room. He already hated the idea of going back, yet this had to be done.

“What’s the run down?” Steve asked. And Nick just shrugged.

“That’s for you to figure out, Captain. I’m the director of no one, just handing you the information,” he responded.

Steve scoffed, but then began to think up a plan.

***

James was tasked with Natasha to hunt down the highest operatives, as well as gather any information that could lead to other high officials or secret bases.

“You okay?” Natasha asked as they silently trekked through the fallen snow towards the warehouse. 

“Sparks a lot of memories,” he sighed. The place had changed a bit, yet still looked practically the same. He shivered, but not from the cold, Natasha noticed.

“I’ve got your back. If you go out or a memory overtakes you, I’m here,” she said assuringly. And the thought did comfort James. He could trust her to have his back.

The two had eventually made their way inside the base. It was oddly quiet, dangerously quiet. Not a person was in sight.

James and Natasha had their rifles ready and loaded, using the scope to asses the area. Heat signatures were everywhere but… there was nobody around, as they could tell. James would’ve preferred if they were already fighting, running into a rain of bullets, so then they would at least know who they’re fighting. But no, just silence.

As they rounded the corned, with his heightened senses, he heard a click. A click of a gun getting turned off of safety. He pulled Natasha behind him, had his own gun loaded, and turned the corner, ready for the ambush of agents lying behind the wall.

The agents were taken by surprise, probably assuming they would be the ones to cause the sneak attack, yet quickly they took action and began firing back. Fifteen or so agents were crowded in the hallway. With six shots from Nat’s gun and nine from James’, every agent in the hallway was dead.

“Let’s go,” Natasha yelled to him, knowing that reinforcements would arrive at any second. No use in being sneaky.

They ran down the hallway, through corridors as alarms blared. They had to get to the main “office”, or room where the important officials were located and their files were kept. 

The two encountered a few more agents, but they were taken down quickly with a set of kicks, and punches. Eventually, they found the “office”. An incredibly secure metal door was in front of them, completely locked.

“How’ll we open it?” James asked.

“With this,” Natasha took out a set of black batons. She then adjusted her widow bites meter and pressed a button. The batons pulsed a glowing blue color and she struck it against the door hinges, causing them to break.

Meanwhile James was communicating with Steve through their coms. “Now’s a good time for a distraction, we’re nearly in and you need to draw some agents away.”

“Got it. Tell us once you two are out of the building and then Tony can blow the entire place,” Steve replied.

“Copy that,” James smirked. He liked the idea of this building turning to ashes.

“Door’s unstable. Ready for entry,” Natasha reported, and reloaded her gun while taking cover against the wall.

“Do it,” James nodded. 

With a kick, Natasha broke down the door, yet nobody was inside. They scanned the area, making sure it was completely empty, before searching through files. James took out a flash drive while Nat guarded the door. He began to download the files when something caught his eye. Photos were hung along the wall. Photos of old officials, and handlers. Photos of people James recognized instantly. No memories flooded back, yet he was caught in a daze. Caught in such a daze he didn’t hear the sound of bullets ricocheting back and forth. He didn’t hear the sound of sets of footsteps entering the room. And he didn’t hear Natasha calling out his name… asking for backup until…

James turned, just in time to watch a set of bullets pierce her skin. Just in time to watch her fall limply to the floor. Just in time to watch another agent aim his gun at her head. Before James could even react, he took out his gun and shot the intruders. All fourteen of them, five of which had entered the room, the rest were still in the hallway. Only once they were dead, did he return to the “office”.

James kneeled by Natasha’s side and flipper her body over so she was facing him. She was unresponsive, yet he hadn’t jumped to conclusions yet. Before any other agents could enter, he pulled her to the corner, gently, so they wouldn’t be vulnerable in the middle of the room. She looked so different. So lifeless, and fragile. It scared him. Blood was pouring out, onto his hands. Her blood. He couldn’t help the tears that started to fall.

“Na… Nata…” he began, staring at her unconscious form in his lap, when a flash of recognition came over him. A memory overcame him….

...

He watched as a man shot a bullet right through her. Right through her rib cage. She fell to the ground, James caught her. The girl, she looked like a younger version of the Natasha he knew, but…. she… he knew her as Natalia.

“No, Natalia!” he spoke in Russia. First he fired a few shots at the man who had caused this, yet he had gotten away. It was no use chasing the man, instead he had returned to Natalia’s side. “No, my little spider.” He had kissed her. Kissed her temple, kissed her lips.

It was as if the floodgates had opened. A new rush of memories filled his head. Meeting her. Training her. Talking to her. Telling her that he loved her. Kisses, touches, words of trust exchanged. Missions, battles, fights they had to win. Comforting embraces. Promises exchanged in breathtaking kisses. Secret meetings. Solace in her. Light in the darkness. Love. These memories were filled with love. And then… nothing. She was taken from him far too soon, and he had let them.

James snapped out of his daze.

“Nata… Natalia?” he looked down at her in shock. It was her face. The one of the red head in those memories. The one he loved, lying in his lap. Bleeding out. “Natalia.” He whispered in a quiet, shaky voice. He brushed her red hair out of her face. It caused for blood to streak over her cheek. Too much blood, so much blood. She’s dying, she’s bleeding out.

He tapped on his coms. “St..Steve,” he managed to make out, yet his voice was restricted from the sobs. “Steve.”

“Yeah, Buck,” he responded, then spoke again, realizing Bucky’s tone. “What’s wrong?”

“They… I couldn’t… they… she’s down… she’s shot,” he continued. His voice stuttered and shook. He could barely even speak. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing. His heart wouldn’t stop hurting. She was… no, no, no, no. He looked at her wounds, the gaping holes piercing through her suit. “Two shots to her abdomen…. one in her arm, another on her thigh and….” James sucked in a shaky breath. “Two directed near her vital organs.”

“Is she conscious?” Steve asked. James could hear the worry in his voice.

“N..no,” he whispered. His whole body racked with the silent sobs. He intertwined his fingers into hers and held her to his chest. There was a moment of silence, the only sound was of James crying in the corner with an unconscious Natasha in his lap. Her blood was covering his clothes, yet he didn’t care. He only cared for her… how could he let this happen?!  
“I’m coming to clear the hallways, Sam has a quinjet ready for you. We’re going to take her back to the compound,” Steve explained.

James didn’t respond, his thoughts were too overpowering. He tried to apply pressure onto the wounds, hoping not too much blood would spill out, yet it was no use. They needed a doctor… fast.

***

It felt like an eternity, the amount of time it took for Steve to get to the “office”, but once he had entered the doorway, did he stop to stare at the scene in front of him. His throat tightened and it felt like he couldn’t breath for a moment. The sight made his heart throb. Natasha unconscious and limp, blood everywhere, James holding her in his lap, him whispering something in Russian. And when he looked up to Steve, the look of total despair and heartache.

“Here…” Steve walked forward, ready to lift Natasha, yet James shook his head.

“I’ve got her. Just cover me.”

Steve nodded as he watched James lift her up and hold her in a bridal carry. For his strong hands and arms, the movement was so gentle. So, so, gentle. Something had changed in James’ expression, yet Steve didn’t question it yet. They didn’t have the time for that.

Instead they ran through the hallways, leaving a trail of crimson red blood behind them.

***

The whole plane ride back to the compound, James didn’t leave Natasha’s side. They wrapped her wounds with some gauze to help stop the bleeding, but it didn’t do much. Within minutes, the once white bandages turned red.

Steve watched the soldier from the co-pilot’s seat while Sam flew the jet. 

“I’ve never seen her like this… this injured,” Steve muttered underneath his breath. Sam only nodded, not knowing what to say. He looked back at James who still had his hand holding her own.

The rest of the ride was silent, until they got to the compound. 

***

The doctors and nurses knew that an injured agent was arriving, since they had a stretcher ready once the jet had landed. The three nurses entered the jet, and lifted her onto the stretcher. James walked with them, his hand still grasping hers. His finger gripping her pulse point. It had weakened greatly since they had take off from Ostashkov. 

Once they had entered the medical lab, a nurse told James that he had to wait in another room, that they would have to preform an emergency procedure if they even had a chance at saving her. Her body was in critical condition.

“I…I can’t leave her… I promised… I can’t leave her,” he protested. The nurse gave him a sad look but continued, trying to pry his hand away.

“We can’t operate with you in the room. You have to stay here,” she explained again.

“No… I can’t… I promised,” his eyes were dazed and bloodshot red form the tears.

“Buck, you can’t go. She’s in safe hands, don’t worry,” Steve pulled his friend out of the room. James let up but still protested. 

“Can’t trust doctors, they hurt her. They’ve hurt her…” he repeats, his head in a daze. He remembers the scar, he remembers the operation. The doctors slicing into her, the messy stitches they placed. They took out her ovaries. And she was only 18. Doctors hurt her. Doctors weren’t safe. They’ve injected serums into her, medicines that created torture for her to face. Doctors weren’t safe. “I need to protect her.”

Steve looked at James worriedly, he had never seen his best friend act like this before. “She’s going to be okay.”

James only shook his head and sat in one of the chairs, his head resting in his hands. 

o0o

(2 days after the graduation ceremony)

They were sparring, like usual. Yet when James landed a kick to Natalia’s side, she winced back and doubled over in pain. Immediately, he was concerned. The widows were trained to never show pain, Natalia being the only one left was proof that she never did. He walked over to her and kneeled by her side. Something was wrong.

“What is wrong, Natalia?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she stated, looking up at him but not getting up out of her crouched position. He read her eyes. There was pain. Immense pain, followed by a fear that he would punish her for showing it. He shook his head at the thought. Even after gaining a sort of trust with her, the fear Madame B had ingrained into her head stayed put. That “show weakness, get punished” mentality.

“You’re hurt,” he responded instead. “Let me see.”

He made sure to make his words seem soft, gentle, not demanding. Never demanding. She shook her head, looking away.

“Let me see,” he said again. Those same words he had used whenever he checked her wounds.

Natalia relented and revealed her blood soaked shirt. It blended with the dark tank top she was wearing, yet was still noticeable. He carefully lifted the hem to reveal a wide open wound. The fresh stitches ripped.

He knew about this operation. Heard about it through talk and rumors, nobody had ever directly told him. They would cut the reproductive organs out of the girls once they turned 18. It was considered their “graduation”. He should’ve remembered she had went through it only two days before. He would’ve been more careful. It was his fault. She seemed to sense his guilt.

“It’s not your fault. I’ll be fine,” she explained.

“No, you need this to be restitched before it gets infected. You need a doctor,” James shook his head.

“I can’t,” she protested. “They hurt me, they’ll do the same messy stitches. They’ll cut me open again. When I’m under the drugs, I’m no longer in control. They’ll hurt me in more ways than one.”  
James knew she was good at masking any trembles in her voice, yet a few had made themselves known when she said the statement. She was scared. Purely scared. ‘Hurt me in more ways than one’, she said? They must’ve done more than just the operation. A new fire burned in his belly. Did they dare to… take advantage…? 

“Then I’ll go in there and watch. As your trainer. Make sure they only repair the stitches, nothing more or less,” James responded. “Okay?”

“You promise me? You’ll protect me, you promise?” she asked, her voice still trembled. 

“I promise.”

o0o

Now in the waiting room, he felt as if he had broken that promise.


	8. Her Sweet Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James waits, and waits. However long it takes, he waits for her.

James waited. He waited and waited. Still sat in that chair, deep in thought. His head was still in his hands and all he could think about was her. What if he never got to tell her? Did she know? Know about their memories? He wanted to ask Steve but… would Steve even know?

He looked up, for the first time in about half an hour. He felt the dried up tracks his tears left behind pull on the skin of his face. Steve wasn’t in the room. For a moment James panicked, not even really remembering where he was. The memories and visions had came in and out over the past half hour, so, he felt he could be anywhere. Right, compound… waiting… waiting for Natalia to wake up. No, Natasha? What would he call her?

Just then Steve entered the room, still on the phone with someone.

“No, she’s still in the operating room,” he nodded, then sighed. “No news on anything. Could be bad or good.”

Steve noticed James watching him, and made quick work to end the conversation.

“Let Clint know. Yeah, Tony. Okay, bye,” he hung up the phone then walked over to Bucky. “I thought you were asleep. You sat like that for half an hour.”

“I know… it was,” James took a deep breath. “Memories.”

“Memories?” Steve asked, and his faced seemed to perk up.

“Yeah…” James said slowly. “Memories of her from…”

James stopped. Something in Steve’s gaze. He knew something. He knew…?

“Wait. Do you know about them?”

Steve looked at James like a deer in headlights. His expression full of surprise. He opened his mouth to attempt a lie (probably), yet closed it shut again.

“Did… did she…?”

He looked down now, not knowing what to say.

“Steve, did you know? Did you know about us? About my memories of her?”  
Steve sighed and shook his head, then sat down. “Yes.”

A saddened look crossed James’ face. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because she didn’t want to force you. She didn’t want to force any memories onto you. She didn’t want to push you.”

James looked down at his hands and hung his head. Of course she did. She had never pushed him, only cared for him with every inch of her soul. And now? God, he needed her to live. 

“And she told you?” he asked after a moment, looking up at Steve again. 

“After weeks of persistence. Trust me, she wasn’t jumping at the opportunity.”

They were silent for a moment. James let the statement sink in, while Steve sat as still as a tree, not knowing what in the world to even say. After a few moments James spoke. His voice was quiet, and it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, not Steve. 

“She was the only good thing in it all. You don’t know half of it, Steve. She cared for me like nobody else had…” he shook his head, trying to hide the next set of tears that tried to overcome him. Since when did he become so emotional? Because he… loved her. “…she… she taught me to love again. To care again. She made me want to live a life and not follow the orders they pressed onto me.”

“And in a way, you taught her what love was even like,” Steve smiled at his friend, wrapping an arm over his shoulder. He was even tearing up now.

“I loved her… I still love her. What if I never get to tell her Steve? What if…”

“You will tell her. And she won’t die. She’s strong.”

“I didn’t protect her,” James breathed, almost to himself. His head felt heavy, matching the feeling in his heart.

“It’s not your fault, Buck,” Steve assured him. 

James was still trying to process everything. Steve knowing. The new memories. The slightest idea that maybe Natalia, or Natasha, wasn’t going to make it out alive.

“I didn’t protect her,” he repeated. “She did this to protect me. She had my back and I didn’t have hers’.” He sighed, then spoke in Russian, “God, Natalia. Please fight through this.”

***

An hour had passed. Then another. The team had eventually returned to the compound, distressed, exhausted and unsuccessful. They had evacuated the camp, all the officials had gotten away. Only a few files from the USB James had began to download was left. They checked in with Steve and James, Wanda stayed with them for a bit, still worried about Natasha’s condition, yet Vision had pulled her away after a while to get her mind off things.

Clint on the other hand spent the entire time in the waiting room, pacing. 

“You can sit, you know?” Steve motioned to the chair next to him.

“What happened? How could you let this happen?” Clint questioned. His glare was directed at James. 

“I got distracted. I didn’t hear her ask for backup. I’m really, really sorry,” James hung his head. Guilt once again evaded him.

“She might die because of this! I can’t…” Clint continued to rant. Steve stood up and pulled the man away. They whispered in the corner, more like Steve whispered to Clint while Clint still talked in a normal voice.

Even from his position, seated in the farthest chair, James could hear what they were saying.

“You can’t blame him, it isn’t his fault.”

“Who else’s fault is it, then?”

“The agents that shot her.”

Clint sighed.

“Believe me, Clint. He’s taking this hard. He already blames himself… and…” Steve took a deep breath, “he shouldn’t have to have that sort of idea in his head. He doesn’t deserve that immense guilt. Nobody does.”

Clint eventually nodded, then added.

“Does he know about his time with Natasha from before?”

“He does now. I think he remembered sometime over the course of this event.”  
“Natasha will be happy to hear that.”

Steve only nodded and they returned back to the main waiting area. James’ guilty thoughts continued to consume him. It was your fault, his mind said, all your fault. 

“Sorry, man. I was just a bit angry. She’s my best friend,” Clint sighed and patted James on the shoulder.

“Yeah,” he wanted to say, “I love her too.” But it didn’t feel right, so instead he just nodded. 

It was a shock, that feeling that overcame him when he remembered. Yet a new realization had also came over him. It wasn’t because of the memories that he loved Natasha now. He had been secretly falling for her since she helped him with his nightmares. Only now, with the memories, that bond had became stronger. He smiled, for a split moment at the prospect of that idea. Even without his memory, he had begun to love her. His words he had spoken to her all those years ago couldn’t have been more true: We will always find our way back to each other.

James didn’t really believe in soulmates or that there’s an “invisible string”: the idea of being connected to somebody and that you will find them, no matter what the circumstances. Yet now, with Natalia, or Natasha, he believed it. Fate would have it, he would love her and find her, memory or no memory. James did, of course, prefer it with his memory. 

***

It was nearly 8 at night. They had been waiting for a good three hours. Wanda had returned again, along with most of the Avengers, all anxious on any news to come. Still there hadn’t been any word from the doctors or nurses and it scared the shit out of James. Steve had brought him some dinner, a plate of chicken Alfredo pasta that Wanda had made, yet James didn’t feel like eating. 

“Please,” he said, holding out the plate.

“No, I can’t eat. My stomach is twisted in knots,” James responded.

Steve sighed and placed it on the little table between the two chairs. 

“Just incase you want it later,” he explained. James just nodded. He wouldn’t eat until he at least heard some news. If he ate anything now, he would probably just throw it all up again.

Then, 10 minutes later, a nurse entered the waiting room. He looked tired, and his face barely gave James a clue of the news he would bring. He didn’t seem overjoyed, but not fully distressed either. A good in between stage.

“So?” Clint asked. And the rest of the team, except James, stood up, waiting for the news.

“We’ve stabilized her condition. Almost lost her twice, yet her heart beat is consistent at the moment,” he started.

James let out a breath of relief. She was still alive. She was still alive. She was still alive. That was the only thought running through his head. 

“Miraculously, none of the bullets hit her vital organs, though she has a shattered rib. The other bullet wounds weren’t as serious and the bullets from the shot to her thigh and bicep are already taken out. The two in her abdomen have also been removed and patched up, but the two near her rib cage is a trickier operation. Which we’ll preform in about half an hour. We want her to rest for a bit,” he explained.

“Anything else?” Tony asked.

“Because of the shattered rib, there could be risk of internal bleeding, which we’ll also have to take care of in that operation,” he added.

Internal bleeding? That was never good. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, just stable for now. James wanted to take advantage of that opportunity.

“Can I see her?” he asked. His voice was a quiet. The request had almost went unheard, yet the nurse had picked it up.

“Yes, you can. But she’s on multiple pain killers and just got out of the first operation. She won’t be awake or talking,” the man stated.

“Can she hear me?” James asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“I still want to see her,” he stood up.

The nurse looked to the other Avengers, to see if they wanted to tag along.

“We’ll go later,” Steve said for the group. Even though only Clint and Steve knew the full backstory of Natasha and James’ extensive relationship, everyone else could tell he had a connected with her. They let him go alone.

James followed the nurse through the hallway until they came across a small room. It looked like a hospital room, with the same reclined cot and the privacy curtain that could circle the entire bed. Her fiery red hair was splayed across the pillowcase, her hands by her side and most of her body was underneath the blanket they had provided for her.   
She looked almost peaceful. Her lips weren’t curved up in a smile, yet not in a frown either. Just solemnly straight. She did have beautiful lips though, James noticed more and more. Her stomach rose and fell slowly. And she seemed so calm. 

He reached for her hand, the one closest to him that wasn’t hooked up to IVs and other needles. A cluster of steady beeps from the multiple monitors played in the background. At the moment that was his favorite sound: the sound that assured him that she was alive.

Her hand wasn’t cold neither warm. As if by habit, he placed his finger on her pulse. There were machines tracking it, yet he had to be sure himself. It was steady, strong and he smiled down at her for a moment because of it. She was fighting, surviving, something she had done her whole life. Something she had done far too many times. 

“Natasha,” he began, then decided to change the language to Russian. He didn’t exactly know if somebody was eavesdropping. I guess old habits die hard. “Or Natalia, when you wake up you can tell me which one you prefer. But I’ll always call you moy malen’kiy pauk.”

My little spider. He breathed a shaky laugh at the nickname. And gently, he touched his hand to her cheek with his metal arm. Her skin was warmer there, her cheeks even a bit rosy. How was she always so beautiful? Even while fighting for her life in a hospital bed she looked like an angel.

“And…I…I need you to wake up, so I can tell you,” he sighed. “So I can tell you I remember you. That I love you, will always love you. And that I’m sorry. This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have gotten distracted.”

There was a moment of silence. He removed his hand from her face and clasped her nimble wrist with his fingertips. Then held her hand up to his lips for him to place a kiss onto her palm.

“You’re the strongest person I know. If anyone can survive this, it’s you,” James inhaled. Then just sat in silence for a moment. He looked at her, tried to memorize every single detail about her. Just in case. Then, after just watching her breath for a minute or two, he began to sing.

It was a soft song, he practically whispered it. He had remembered it was her favorite lullaby. She would usually be the one to sing it to him, after nightmares or flashbacks. Or even just as they would fall asleep together, she would hum the melody. Now, it was time he sang it to her.

“Mirrorbright, shines the moon, its glow as soft as an ember. When the moon is mirrorbright, take this time to remember,” he began with a shaky breath, the continued to pronounce the familiar Russian words. “Those you have loved but are gone. Those who kept you so safe and warm."  
A tear streaked down his cheek, he wiped it away and still sang quietly into her hand. His eyes were closed, his head bent down as if he was praying. And in a sense he was. These lyrics were their prayer. It had that same comfort an “Our Father” or “Hail Mary” would hold. 

“The mirrorbright moon lets you see, those who ceased to be. Mirrorbright shines the moon, as fires die to their embers. Those you loved are with you still, the moon will help you remember,” he finished. Then looked back up at her. 

“That was pretty, didn’t understand a word of it, but still. Never pinned you for the singing type,” a soft voice said. James turned to find Wanda standing in the doorway.

James nodded. “Here, I’ll leave…”

“You don’t have to. The team just wanted to see if they could visit. The nurse says only a few minutes longer before they have to prep her,” she stated.

“It’s okay. You all deserve some time with her,” he shook his head, then turned his attention back onto Natasha. He kissed her hand once again and placed it back onto the bed next to her side. “Goodbye, moy malen’kiy pauk. Only for now, of course.”

“We don’t mind, you don’t…” she started.

“Wanda, it’s okay,” he switched the language back to english, and gave a weak smile, yet Wanda could sense he was forcing it. “Go, get the team. Tell them I’ll be in the training room if they need me.”

The woman only nodded, then left to room to get the rest of the Avengers. Meanwhile, James left for the training room. He needed to punch something. He needed to get that mix of fear, nervousness and guilt out of his system the only way he knew how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that James sings to Natasha is actually a lullaby from Star Wars. I tried to search up Russian lullabies but they were all incredibly dark (one was about kids dying in their sleep, another about a wolf snatching them up with sharp teeth and the last one I researched was about a witch casting a curse, sooo) I don’t think they would’ve been a good thing for Natasha to sing to James in the past or for James to sign to Natasha in the present. The song is called “Mirrorbright” and I thought the lyrics were lovely and could relate to their story. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	9. The Punching Bag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James lets out all his frustrations, fears, nervousness and guilt into the punching bag in the gym. A gruesome memory replays in his head.
> 
> WARNING: mentions of abuse/torture (related to Red Room)

Thud!

The punching bag took another blow. James didn’t even bother to wrap his hands.

Thud!

He couldn’t get the image out of his head. The bullets hitting her, piercing her skin. 

Thud!

She fell onto the ground, already bleeding out.

Thud! Thud!

Her pulse was weak, eyes closed, unresponsive.

Thud! Thud!

He was transported into a different place. Into the past memories. She was in them, yet they were nightmarish and painful.

Thud!

She had failed once, in sparring against Yelena Belova (a girl training to be the next Black Widow, only a year younger than Natalia). James knew she had an injury, she had fractured her ankle.

Thud!

It was no excuse, Madame B took her to the room below.

Thud!

The room with no windows.

Thud! 

He was told to follow.

Thud!

They chained her.

Thud!

And a man entered the room.

Thud! Thud!

He watched from the gated off area. It felt like he was in a cell. 

Thud! Thud!

The man swung a whip.

Thud!

It was punishment, just for him to watch and not react. 

Thud!

One slash.

Thud!

Two slashes.

Thud! Thud!

Three slashes.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Four, five, eight, ten, fifteen, twenty.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

The numbers climbed, he didn’t make an effort to count anymore.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

But he heard the sound. The sound of the leather strip making contact onto her skin.

Thud! Thud! Thud! 

He didn’t wince, once. Madame B was watching him, testing him.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Natalia never cried.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

She took every slash with grace while his belly filled with rage.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

They kept on hitting her.

Thud! Thud!

He couldn’t make them stop! He should’ve made them stop!

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

He had failed her! He had hurt her! He didn’t protect her!

THUD!

The punching bag flew across the room, just as Steve had opened the door. The blonde looked from James to the punching bag and back again.

“I’ve been there too before,” he sighed. “Not too long ago.”  
“Punched your worries away?” James scoffed sarcastically.

“Something like that,” Steve nodded.

James sat down, exhausted. One look at his flesh hand showed proof of how hard he was punching. His fist was purple, and he hadn’t even felt anything. He was too lost in that memory to feel pain.

“You look shaken up,” Steve observed and took a seat on a bench along the wall next to James.

“That’s putting it lightly,” he shook his head at even the thought of what he had just remembered. Now with more memories of Natalia coming back, not all of them were good. Many of them were almost torture.

“You should eat something, maybe rest. She’ll be out of the operation by tomorrow morning, if not sooner,” Steve sighed.

“No, I need to be awake. Just incase. Just incase it doesn’t go well,” James argued.

Steve looked over at him. He eyed the sweat dripping down his forehead as well as the shake his flesh hand was making as he reached for a water bottle and took a sip. He had seen a past memory, Steve assumed.

“If something happens, you’ll be the first to know, I assure you that, Buck,” he stated.

“I…I…” he still shook his head, looking down at his legs.

“Please at least spend some time to rest or something, get changed too,” he encouraged.

James knew Steve wouldn’t let up, so he relented and stood. “Fine. No guarantees on the sleeping part, though.”

Steve just gave James an encouraging smile, and they got up, then headed up to the living room in the compound.

***

If the Avengers hadn’t been walking on eggshells around him before, they definitely were now. They always had given him space, yet now it was blatantly obvious and taken to a whole other level.

Wanda and Vision had turned in for the night when James entered the living room. They were in the middle of watching a movie, but paused it, and eventually turned it off, once he arrived.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, it’s getting late,” Wanda had explained with a smile. It seemed a bit forced and James could easily read her closed off body language.

“Goodnight, Sargent Barnes,” Vision nodded respectfully. 

At least the android didn’t try to hide the pitiful expression.

James had already taken a shower, by Steve’s request, and was dressed in a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a tank top. He sat on the couch, not knowing what to do. The past memories were becoming almost overpowering. He enjoyed experiencing the good ones, the times spent with Natalia, yet they were all laced with killings, missions, assassinations or ruined by the presence of Madame B or his other handlers. And the horrid ones? The ones where Natalia got punished? Hurt? The ones where he couldn’t look out for her? Those hurt even more. Those hurt more than the memories of his own punishments, and practically tied with the memories of the brainwashings. Though, his killings were by far the most horrifying memories, since it was just a reminder that he had caused so much death and destruction. 

He decided to pick up the book that was lying on the coffee table, not knowing really what it was. “To Kill a Mockingbird,” the title read. She had been reading the book for the past month. He personally didn’t know it, yet it must’ve been pretty well known and common for even Tony to comment about it a few days prior.

He flipped through the pages, looking through it aimlessly, not really reading it, more just staring at the words. His mind was elsewhere. It was tired, yet restless. The book proved to be a useless distraction, and he set it down again.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him. Why didn’t he sleep the two nights before? It was partly from the fear of having to deal with nightmares again, yet he had Natasha to console him. It was something else. Something in his mind just wouldn’t allow him to fall asleep, and now he was beyond tired.

He tried to fight it, yet sleep evaded him and soon enough he found himself dreaming another memory. A continuation of that same memory that plagued his thoughts while he had thrown punches at that bag in the training room.

o0o

(about five months after the graduation ceremony)

After what felt like too long, too long for James to control his expression, Madame B raised her hand for the man to stop.

“I hope you learned your lesson, Widow. You must become undefeatable, even with injury. Yelena shouldn’t have beaten you, you’re older, more experienced. You don’t just earn the name Black Widow and preform like trash. That gets you killed. Understood?” she asked.

“Understood, Madame,” Natalia said, her voice didn’t even waver. James marveled at how she never showed her pain, yet one look from her eyes and he could see it all. He had always been able to read her eyes.

“Retreat to your quarters, both of you,” the madame stated. James nodded at her curtly and went on his way. 

***

He didn’t stay in his quarters long. Not with the image of Natalia getting beaten blaring in his mind. Once it was past midnight, did he sneak out of his room. Stealthy, as if preforming a mission, he snuck through the corridors, down the grand staircase, made a quick stop at the infirmary, and then walked through the hallways on the third story. There, he stood in front of Natalia’s room. He didn’t even have to knock, she knew he was there.

Silently, she opened the door, just enough to let him inside, then closed it again. Usually, she would go to his quarters, since his door actually had a lock, yet James had decided to seek her out this night. He knew her too well, she wouldn’t tend to her own wounds, just wash herself like normal and say that they’ll heal with time. She most definitely wouldn’t come to him just to bandage some wounds, which he didn’t take to offense, she just had too much pride to do so.

“Are you okay?” he asked first. Already lifting her nightshirt above her head. She stood in front of him, letting him rid the garment, leaving her just in her sports bra and sleeping shorts.

“I’m fine,” she stated, quietly, yet James knew it was far from the truth. She always said that, that she was “fine". He turned her around, then assessed the damage done to her back and side. She was covered in red welts, some had broken the skin and were bleeding, others seemed to start to swell.

James quickly took out an ointment cream from his pocked and rubbed it onto his fingers. “Sit down,” he said softly. She did, still with her back facing him.

He gently began to apply the cream onto the marks the whip had left behind. A large cut on her lower back made him wince. He applied extra cream onto that one.

“You’ll get in trouble if they found out you stole from the infirmary,” she sighed. The majority of the time they had sat in silence as he dotted the ointment onto her wounds. A calming silence that comforted him, almost. Almost. The slashes from the beating ruined the moment they finally had alone. 

“It’s worth it. This could get infected,” he explained.

“I’ve survived worse.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve proper care.”

Even with her back turned, he could tell she smiled at his remark. Lightly, faintly, yet he still had earned a smile.

“I should’ve done better,” she continued. Her face turned serious again.

“You were injured, you did the absolute best you could,” he explained.

“Not good enough. I have to be better,” she shook her head.

“Hey, look at me,” he said. She did, waiting attentively on what he was going to say. “You are the most skilled agent I know. You’re the most skilled widow in this entire building. Don’t let her get into your head, it can ruin you. I should know.”

She nodded solemnly. It was true, they could try to resist Madame B’s physiological tormenting, yet they both knew the horrible truth. Until they would break out, break free of their chains to the Red Room (like that was even an option), they would ultimately be under her control. They would suffer her torments, suffer her punishments, do as she asked… until they met death.

That’s at least what they thought at the time.

o0o

James woke up with a start. He felt the sense that somebody was watching him, and quickly he was on high alert. He calmed down, though, when he realized it was Clint. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized.

“It’s alright. About time I woke up,” James muttered and looked at the clock near the base of the TV. Nearly two in the morning.

“Couldn’t sleep, too anxious,” the archer explained while propping his feet up against the coffee table and picking up the remote. “Wanna watch something?”

“A distraction would be nice. There’s nothing I can do anyways, so anything to stop me from continuously worrying would help,” James shrugged.

“Good, because I hear that Joy is good, came out earlier this year, just haven’t watched it,” he explained.

“What’s it about?” 

“The woman who invented the Joy Mops. My wife, Laura, recommended it,” he explained.

“Yeah, I think I can handle that,” James shrugged. The thing he least wanted was a scene that would accidentally spark some sort of painful memory. So, they watched the movie. 

Still, it did little to distract him. His eyes never focused on the characters, his mind never settled on the plot, just on Natalia. While Joy was on QVC, all he could see was her lying in his arms. When the credits rolled, his thoughts were only on how long it was taking for him to receive news. Any news at that. Was she okay? Was it supposed to take this long? Yet the news did finally come…


	10. His Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha wakes up.

It came at around five in the morning. Clint had retreated to his room, leaving James to sit on the couch and let the streetcars below distract him. His was extremely tired, yet made an effort to not fall asleep this time around. And thank God he didn’t.

Bruce entered the living room, and went straight towards the stairs before he noticed James on the sofa.

“Barnes! She out, not awake yet, but…”

Bruce didn’t have to say any more. James was up and rushing down the stairs to the medical lab, still silent as always. He nearly ran into a doctor who was exiting a room.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed.

“She’s down the hall,” the woman responded with a kind gaze. “She held strong. I’m very happy for you.”  
“Thank you,” he nodded quickly, then continued down the hall to the last room. The sound of the monitors were back, and he found her hooked up to even more wires than before, if that was even possible. She didn’t look better, nor worse, just… James didn’t care. She was alive! She was alive! She didn’t die!

But she still hadn’t woken up, so he sat patiently, with his hand over her own, waiting. He would wait, however long it would take, he would wait. He needed her to know. 

***

Nearly an hour had went by. Steve, Wanda, Vision, Thor, Clint, Tony and Bruce had joined him, while Sam was making them all breakfast. Fifteen minutes into the waiting, Sam was wheeling a cart that had eight plates piled with eggs, sausages, and bacon. They each took a plate (except Vision, who didn’t eat food), grateful for Sam and his culinary skills.

“Still nothing?” he asked, eyeing Natasha, then James.

“No,” Clint shook his head.

Sam sighed and took a seat in the only open chair. Tony was pacing, unsettled, while the rest of them sat or stood in silence. Her condition stayed the same, there was no uncommon beeps on the monitor or anything like that, yet every minute she didn’t wake up, the lower his stomach dropped with dread. Like before, he kept his fingers on her pulse, he just had to be sure. Just had to be. 

“You know the machines do the pulse tracking, Barnes?” Tony quipped, jokingly. It did little to lighten the mood.

“Can’t always trust the machines,” he responded, solemnly. And he didn’t.

Another fifteen minutes went by, then half an hour. An hour turned to two, and by then some of the Avengers were becoming restless, while others were receiving news that they had missions to attend to.

“Call me down once she wakes up, Pepper won’t stop calling about Stark business stuff, so I better get to work,” Tony explained, leaving the room.

“I have faith she will heal, James. But I have matters to attend in space. Loki is causing trouble again, and I fear that I’m the only one who can handle it. Not to worry I will return,” Thor’s voice boomed, and he left the rom as well.

Meanwhile Clint was arguing with Fury on the phone, “No, I won’t take the mission, not when I don’t know how she is, Nick.”

The was silence as Nick talked on the other end.

“If anything you should have more sympathy, and concern. She trusts you, at least she used to before that stunt you pulled…. No, I will not do it. I won’t leave. No, Nick.”

Clint hung up the phone, muttering under his breath, annoyed, “I can’t believe him.”

“What’s the mission?” Steve asked.

“Fury found a lead on those HYDRA officials Natasha and Barnes were going to take out. He wants me to track them down and bring them in for questioning,” Clint shook his head.

“Sam and I can do it,” Steve suggested.

“No, you shouldn’t…” 

“I’ll go too, we need to catch these guys,” Wanda added in.

“So will I,” Vision stated.

“But she’s your friend too, I can’t force that upon you…” he started.

“You just call us when she wakes up. I think she’ll understand,” Sam nodded and patted Clint’s shoulder.

“Thanks guys,” he gave a grateful smile.

Steve walked over to James, who was still sitting by Nat’s side. 

“It’ll only be a matter of time, Buck. She’ll wake up,” Steve sighed, also looking at the sleeping red head. 

“I know. It’s hard to wait though,” James nodded.

“We’ll be back soon. Let us know any news when you get some.”

“Will do.”

Steve gave James’ shoulder a squeeze then left the room, followed by Sam, Wanda and Vision. Shorty after, a nurse entered the room and asked for Bruce, so he had left as well. Only Clint and James were left.

At first there was almost an awkward silence, where neither of them spoke much at all. Then, Clint eventually talked, trying to ease the heavy cloud of doubt that loomed over them both.

“So, you love her?” he asked.

“No, I never said…” 

“You didn’t have to,” Clint chuckled. “You’d be surprised, I can analyze people quite well.”

James scoffed and shook his head, laughing a little as well.

“You have a wife, where is she? How does she take your work situation?” he asked after he calmed down again.

“Laura… her location is kept secret, for a reason. No offense to you, but I can’t exactly share that information,” the archer explained. “I have three kids too…”

With that statement James’ eyes widen for a second. What other secrets were the rest of the Avengers keeping from him? Did everyone here have secret families?

“It’s hard to be apart from them for so long. I stay with them every chance I get, but with Nick always sending me off on missions, it’s not nearly as much time as I would like.”  
“It must be hard for you,” he sympathized, though he didn’t really know the feeling, since he himself didn’t have kids and the people he loved were doing the work he was.

“Yeah, it is. I worry about them, less about me. If somebody would use them to get to me, reason their location is classified, not to mention if something like this happened to me…” Clint’s gaze fell on Natasha, who was still laying asleep. “I won’t be able to forgive myself for putting my family through this sort of pain. For them to worry so much. They know the risk, but still…”

James only nodded, also looking down at Natasha’s sleeping form. He had assumed since HYDRA that having a family wouldn’t be obtainable, and he still assumed the same fact. Clint was lucky to have that gift: to have a family but still stay an agent. James had a feeling he probably couldn’t do both, plus he was in no condition to be a father. He still feared that HYDRA had a play in his personalities. What if he got angry? Mad? All those horrible “what-ifs” made him think that having kids just wasn’t his fate. But he still didn’t know… he would wait and see what the future holds.

A moment later there was the sound of a faint groan and rustle of the flimsy thin sheets. James brought his attention back to Nat, and his lips quickly upturned into a smile. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, as she adjusted to the light. By then, Clint had also made his way to her side.

“Look who woke up,” he joked, though Natasha could tell he had been worried.

“Yeah, thought a nap sounded nice,” she quipped and smiled back.

“Don’t you dare do that again. Do you know how angry Laura was when she heard you nearly died?” he asked.

“I can’t make any promises,” she smirked. “But tell Laura I’m sorry.”

She then turned her attention to James, looking down at his hand gripping her own. 

“I’ll leave you two alone and let the others know you’re up,” Clint said. He had noticed how Natasha’s eyes had widened in surprise when she noticed it was James by her side, holding her hand. They needed some privacy to talk.

“Thanks, Clint,” she smiled at him, genuinely, then looked at James, trying to read his eyes. And he took this moment to do the same. Once again, emerald green eyes piercing winter blue, how it always was.

“Natalia…” James began, speaking in Russian.

Natasha’s heart nearly kept out of her chest at the name, her eyes turned glossy, and she looked at him shocked, dazed and mostly confused.

“You… you remember?” she asked, her voice breathless. She felt as if she could barely breath. This wish… her hope for so long…it had…

“Yes,” he nodded, and he gave a gentle smile while running his flesh fingertips over her knuckles. Though, it eventually faded. “Sadly, it took you nearly dying to get back those memories.”  
Natasha could read the guilt on his face as he looked away. He nearly removed his hand off of her’s as well, yet she quickly gripped his wrist.   
“But you remember,” she beamed. Her face and voice just emitted the joy and smile James had been waiting so long to see. Damn, he loved her smile. “And it’s not your fault. Don’t you dare put the blame on yourself. My gun jammed and there were too many to take out in hand to hand combat.”

He shook his head, looking down, yet didn’t remove his hand this time. Instead he bent it so it was practically laying next her her hand, on her side.

“I should’ve been there,” he responded, and Natasha could hear the small tremble in his voice.

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters,” she ran her hand through his hair, and this time she didn’t worry about his reaction when it continued on to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her hand, eyes still gazing into her’s. Even with just his powerful gaze, she felt butterflies flying in her stomach, along with a new, familiar, yet stronger feeling of love overcome her.

“And you’re alive,” he smiled, causing dimples to appear on his cheeks. Her fingertips traced them, before cradling the back of his neck.

“And I’m alive,” she laughs. A breathy, lovesick laugh.

Catching him off guard, Natasha grabbed his wrist, pulled him up to her level and towards her. He shifted his position so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying not to accidentally put any pressure on her wounds.

It felt as if time had slowed, as she neared her face to his own. Her heart leapt, while anticipation consumed her. He brought his metal hand to her right cheek, and she didn’t hesitate to close the distance. It was soft, gentle, and honestly, more gentle than Natasha was used to. She smiled against his lips at the realization, then depended the kiss.

After a moment he broke it, much to her disappointment. James could see it evidently on her face, and chuckled to himself.

“You need to heal,” he explained. He actually didn’t want to stop kissing her, yet he didn’t want to make her condition worse in any way possible. She had only gotten out of surgery a few hours prior.

“I need you,” was her response as she stroked the back of his neck. He leaned towards her, almost teasing her. Their faces only centimeters apart, with James’ flesh thumb grazing her bottom lip. 

“You’ll always have me. From now on and forever. I promise, I won’t leave you. I’ll always love you, moy malen’kiy pauk,” he whispered, then kissed her once more, still with that gentle, air-on-the-side-of-caution intensity. 

“And I’ll always love you, Yasha,” she whispered back in between kisses. 

And Natasha couldn’t be happier. She would take six more bullets if it meant he would remember her. Most importantly, that he would remember her, on his own. She was with the man she loved, why wouldn’t she be full of joy?

And James couldn’t be happier. His heart was full, his life, for once, felt complete. He was with the woman he had fell for, twice. He was home. She was his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking I would end this story here. Quiet honestly I don't know what else to add, but if you have any ideas please let me know and I'll try to continue writing this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it, I know it was long, but I feel that it was worth it. This was definitely my favorite work to write out of all the parts in this series so I hope you liked reading it just as much as I loved writing it.
> 
> Any other ideas for a fic (a new work)? I don't exactly know what I'll write next but if I have some possible prompts/ideas that would help. I tend to like reading college AUs and I love the idea of writing a 1940s BuckyNat or even 1940s SteveNat dynamic. Please, give me suggestions! I am writing for you all. Have a lovely day!


	11. Extra, Extra!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just an add on, not an actual part of the story. For every work I write, I'll put in a few songs that correlate with the plot and characters. Here's the few I did for Remembering Home...

Never Tear Us Apart (Bishop Briggs)

this is me trying (Taylor Swift)

It's You *I'm Falling For* (Nfgn)

Home (Edith Whiskers)

Where's My Love-Acoustic (SYML)

Touch (Sleeping At Last)

Broken Angel (Grouplove)

Solider (Fleurie)

Welcome Home (Radical Face)

Wonder (Shawn Mendes)

Fragile (Kygo, Labrinth)


End file.
